“Here, why don’t I give you my number so you can call me if anything comes up?”
Logan almost winced at the double entendre, but he didn’t. He was here for the kids and he was also representing the Razors organization as a whole.
Once again, he found himself disinterested in the woman in front of him doling out advances like an ATM.
Before he knew what was happening, Kammie with a K had taken his phone from him. With a sensual cock of her hip and a tilt of her head, she typed in her number and handed the phone back to him—but not before she made sure her hand brushed against his during the exchange.
Logan shot her a polite smile that she couldn’t tell was just to placate her. When he could free himself of her grasp—just because he was a pro athlete, some women thought they could get extra handsy with him—Logan got back to the real reason he was here.
He and Trik paired up together, but when they were separated in the hoopla of taking photos and meeting excited parents, Logan moved on to the next room without his linemate.
Inside, a little boy lay in the big hospital bed, bandages wrapped around his head. He looked helpless, unable to see the world around him—the dangers and the wonders.
Logan cleared his throat to alert the little guy of his presence. “Hi, I’m Logan.”
The kid perked up and Logan was glad to see it. “You play for the Razors, right?”
“Yeah.”
“They told us you were coming.”
Logan moved further into the room and away from the sound of Trik flirting mercilessly with one of the nurses in the hall. Kammie-with-a-K was spreading herself awfully thin.
“We stopped by to give you guys some pucks and trading cards,” Logan told the kid.
The boy held his hand out and Logan dropped a signed puck onto his palm.
“Thanks.”
“Sure, no problem.”
Unable to see, the kid felt his way around the tiny ridges on the puck with his finger.
The image of the small boy clutching the puck to his chest would stay with Logan long after he left the hospital.
After saying goodbye to the boy, Logan walked into the next room and found a little girl sitting up in her bed. Tubes snaked from her frail body and her slender shoulders were slumped over the tray that stretched over her lap. Her tongue was sticking out, clamped between her teeth and she was attempting to paint her fingernails. Her little hands were shaking and the nail polish brush kept slipping from the nail and onto the skin.
She was probably eight or ten, but Logan didn’t really know. He wasn’t around kids enough to recognize what age they were just by looking at one. Either way, she looked like she belonged playing in a bouncy castle rather than lying in a hospital bed. Hell, all the kids here did.
“Hey there,” he said gently so as not to startle her. “My name’s Logan.”
She looked up at him and Logan found himself staring into the brownest eyes he’d ever seen.
She licked her cracked lips and gave him the barest hint of a smile. “I’m Rebecca.” She put the applicator brush back into the bottle and looked him up and down. “You’re very tall.”
He smiled. “Yeah. Watcha doin’?” he asked, not sure of what else to say.
She examined her nails and picked pink polish from her cuticles. “Painting my nails.”
“That’s cool,” he said lamely but she didn’t seem to mind. “I brought you a puck and some cards.”
She took the autographed trading card from him and looked it over front and back. “You’re a hockey player.”
“Yeah. Do you like hockey?”
Standing over her, he felt like Goliath to her David, so Logan pulled a chair over and sat down next to the bed.
He wanted to ask what was wrong with her. Why she had so many tubes and machines hooked up to her. But he didn’t. That wasn’t what he was here for—to remind her of her condition, whatever it was—he was here to hopefully put a smile on her face and take her mind off of her diagnosis and bring some light into her life.
“My brother does.” A look of profound sadness settled over her face and then it was gone. “We used to watch games together all the time.”
“Awesome. Here’s another card so you can have an extra to give him.”
She took the card and sat it precisely on top of the other card on the tray so that the corners lined up. She looked at her bare nails again and her shoulders slumped. “Will you help me?”
When she looked up at Logan with those rich brown eyes, he was powerless to say no.
“Sure,” he answered before he realized what he was agreeing to. He could execute a slap shot seventy miles per hour toward the net, but a manicurist he was not.
Rebecca handed him the bottle of nail polish and he gently took it from her trembling hands.
“I’ve never done this before,” he admitted. This wasn’t exactly what he thought he’d be doing when he came to the hospital today.
“It’s okay. I’m not very good at it either. Don’t you have any sisters to practice on?”
“I do have one, but she’s older than me and she wouldn’t let me within ten feet of her nails.”
“Does she play dress up?”
“She did. She’s all grown up now. Yeah,” Logan thought back to childhood memories. “Come to think of it, she was always trying to get me to wear a dress.”
Rebecca laughed and it came out like a snort, but it was a wonderful sound nonetheless.
Very carefully, Logan painted each of her fingernails until they were all matching pink.
When he was done, she spread out her fingers and beamed up at him. “Thank you!”
“They look very pretty.”
“Now let me paint yours.”
Logan swallowed. He’d give this poor kid the moon if she wanted it, but he wasn’t too sure about a pink manicure. “How about just a pinkie.”
“Okay,” she agreed and laid his pinkie flat on the tray.
“Hey!” Trik bellowed and strode into the room. “What’s goin’ on in here?”
Rebecca looked up at Trik and smiled. “Now we match!”
“Ooh,” Trik cooed with a smirk and looked at Logan’s pinkie. “Pink. Very pretty.” He turned back to Rebecca and asked, “Would you like a card?”
Rebecca nodded, took his card and added it to the pile, keeping Logan’s cards on top. “Thanks.”
The event coordinator came in to the room and was pleased to see smiles on everyone’s faces. “We’re ready for you in the game room,” she said. “There’s an air hockey table set up and I know some of the patients are eager to play a game or two.”
Trik followed her out the door and Logan stood up. “It was nice to meet you, Rebecca.”
“Thanks, Logan.” She looked down at her painted nails with a smile so big that Logan could feel it in his heart.
Logan spent the afternoon shaking hands, taking pictures, reading stories, playing air hockey with leukemia patients, and signing shirts, hats and team photos. He helped draw the shy kids out of their shells and did crafts, colored, and played cards. It was a humbling experience and he had a plethora of different emotions rattling around his brain at the end of the day.
By the time he arrived on Kate’s doorstep he was emotionally drained. He’d handed out dozens upon dozens of trading cards and pucks, but it just didn’t seem like enough when most of those kids were battling for their lives.
He looked down at his phone and immediately deleted Kammie-with-a-K’s phone number. A few weeks ago, he would have given the nurse a call and let one thing lead to another. Now, after meeting Kate, he didn’t even give the eager nurse or her phone number a second glance.
What was it about Kate that kept derailing his thoughts when he least expected it? She wasn’t the type of woman a man could just toss aside after a tumble in the sheets—or on her dining room floor. She deserved to have a man take the time to get to know her—physically and mentally—and he just might be open to that kind of r
elationship after so many unfulfilling ones.
The nurse and the kids were forgotten when Kate swung open her front door and smiled at him. She was wearing a strappy sundress and her feet were bare. She looked so fresh and beautiful that Logan wanted to take her right there on the front porch.
“Well, come on in,” she said with a wave of her hand when he just stood there looking at her.
He followed her inside and she went into the kitchen to check on dinner. He stood at the counter and picked at his pinkie. As much as he tried to pick it off, the pink lacquer clung to his nail like superglue.
“How was your day?” Kate asked, stirring something on the stove. She looked as beautiful in bare feet in her kitchen as she did all dressed up for work.
“It was good,” he mumbled, still working on the polish. As grateful as he was for the gift from Rebecca, no self-respecting hockey player could go around with pink nail polish on his fingernails. “We went to the children’s hospital and visited with the kids.”
“Aww.” Kate set the spoon down on the counter and went to him. “That’s so sweet. Did the whole team go?”
“Yeah.”
She took his hand in hers and kissed his knuckles. “What have you got here?” she asked with a twinkle in her eye.
Logan sighed. “This little girl wanted to paint my nails. And I can’t seem to get the damn stuff off.”
Kate laughed and pulled him down the hall and into the bathroom. After rummaging through the cabinet, she produced a bottle of nail polish remover and a bag of cotton balls.
The bathroom was small and her thighs bumped his as she rubbed a wet cotton ball over his pinkie.
Logan scrunched up his nose at the strong odor. Man, that nail polish was something to be reckoned with if the only thing that could remove it was this foul smelling liquid.
When Kate was finished working her magic, there was no trace of pink. But that didn’t mean he’d ever forget the little girl named Rebecca.
Kate dropped the smelly pink cotton ball in the wastebasket and screwed the lid back on the bottle of nail polish remover. Her hair fell around her face and Logan tucked a lock of it behind her ear.
She was smiling ear to ear and he tilted her chin up so he could see her eyes. “What’s so funny?” he asked.
“I was just imagining you letting some little girl paint your fingernail pink.”
“For your information, her name was Rebecca.”
Kate smiled. “Sounds like Rebecca had you wrapped around her little finger.” She gripped his pinkie and stroked it to make her point.
He lowered his head and touched his lips to hers. She sighed and reached up to circle her arms around his neck. One kiss led to another and before they knew it they had positioned themselves so that they could make love on the counter.
Somehow, they could never seem to make it into the bedroom.
* * *
The only time Julia felt truly sexy was on the nights she played at the Blue Key. Although she couldn’t see what was going on around her, she could feel the electricity in the air whenever she came here. You didn’t have to see the couples who were sitting close together in the booths or the singles bellied up to the bar waiting to be paired off with someone for the night to know that something provocative was happening here.
As much as Kate despised the place, Julia thought her sister would probably enjoy coming here with her mysterious new man. A visit to the Blue Key would be the perfect date for two people who couldn’t keep their hands off each other.
Julia preferred classical music, but she also liked to mix things up with jazz and more upbeat rock-based popular music like Crush 21. Cassidy St. Claire wouldn’t be making an appearance at the Key anytime soon, so Julia played what was requested of her along with the sultry, sensual R&B that suited the club. The kind of music that encouraged thoughts of sensuality and seduction and provided an ideal backdrop for the risqué behavior happening out on the dance floor and in the hotel on the next floor. Julia had heard tales of racy goings on in the elevator as well. Apparently no place in the Blue Key was off limits when its patrons were feeling frisky.
As she began to play her first set, Julia wondered if Gabe had ever been to a place like the Key and whether or not he liked it if he had. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy who frequented places like this, but people were always full of surprises. But probably not Gabe. He would be much more comfortable at a comic book convention or a seminar about all that computer code he wrote.
Sometimes, when she could think beyond events of the past, Julia let herself think about the things men and women did behind closed doors—and in elevators. They weren’t things she was completely opposed to doing with Gabe, but unfortunately their relationship would never progress that far. If she didn’t end things first, then he would do it eventually, long after her heart could be resuscitated.
So, with the sexy thoughts of what was going on around her and in the elevator, Julia played the piano for a room full of new lovers, old lovers, and ones who belonged to someone else.
Chapter Seven
Decoded
Gabe scraped his hand over his face and rubbed his eyeballs vigorously until he saw red spots. The code on his screen wasn’t going to write itself, but because it was for some stupid mundane project for his boss and not for VINCE, his heart just wasn’t in it. If Killingsworth kept pulling him away from VINCE like this, Gabe would be old and gray before he ever got to see the program come to fruition.
When the phone on his desk rang, he was glad for the distraction. The cheery voice on the other end wasn’t Julia’s and that automatically made him grouchy again.
“Hi, Gabe, it’s Sherri in Personnel.”
Sherri was always flashing too-white teeth when she saw him in the hallway, along with a too-big smile. Gabe had the feeling that if he stuck around long enough to talk to her she would probably ask him out. There wasn’t anything wrong with her per se, but he just didn’t like how she looked at him like she was ready to pounce.
In all reality, he really should get out more and actually date, but he couldn’t find the appeal in chatting with a woman about their lives and trying to explain what he did for a living without her eyes glazing over from boredom.
Although there was one woman who understood and genuinely appreciate his work. Julia. No wonder he couldn’t seem to talk himself into diving into the dating pool. He compared every woman to her. That might not be so bad, he thought to himself. Julia was smart, funny and sweet. But she also happened to live twenty-two hundred miles away and he didn’t see a visit to the west coast anywhere in his future.
“Gabe?”
Sherri’s voice reeled his thoughts back in from the greener pastures they’d been roaming in.
“Oh, hey, Sherri.”
“I just wanted to let you know that your two weeks of vacation are available now. They should show up on today’s paystub.”
Vacation. Ha! Good one, Sherri. He hadn’t taken a vacation since long before VINCE had been a twinkle in his eye.
“Thanks,” he said, not really meaning it. She really could have just emailed him with the big news and left him to wallow in his work.
He was just about to hang up when she continued on in her overly cheerful voice. “I noticed you haven’t used your vacation in the last few years.”
“Yeah, I know—”
Wait! That was it! The idea popped into his head like an achievement notification popping up in an Xbox game.
He bolted upright in his chair and nearly sent it banging into the wall behind him. He’d use his vacation time to visit Julia!
Without realizing Sherri was still on the line, Gabe hung up the phone and pulled up a website to search for airline tickets. And then he dialed Julia’s number.
* * *
Shamus navigated Julia through the courtyard and to the front door of her apartment. She had her key ready and slid it into the lock just as a sound came from behind her.
She turned and
was assaulted by the strong smell of Old Spice. Someone should really tell her neighbor Lawrence to use that stuff sparingly.
“Hey Lawrence,” she greeted. “How’s it going?”
He chuckled, amused. “There’s really no sneaking up on you, is there?”
“Let’s hope not,” she joked.
“Hey, I got some of your mail by mistake again.”
“Thanks.” She grabbed onto the letter he was holding out to her and smiled. “Have a good one.”
“You too.”
When she was safely inside her apartment, Julia dropped her keys on the table, kicked off her shoes, and removed Shamus’s body harness.
VINCE alerted her to an incoming call from Gabe and she quickly answered it.
“I’ve got some vacation time to use,” Gabe told her, sounding suspiciously nonchalant.
“Cool. I hear Bermuda is beautiful this time of year.” She took a moment to picture him lounging on the beach, exotic drink in hand. Maybe she should talk Kate into planning a sisters-only vacation. Surf, sand and salt water sounded like just what she needed. If she could pull Kate away from her new mystery man.
“I’m coming to Red Valley, Julia. I already bought the plane ticket and everything. I want to meet you. I mean really meet you.” In a rush, he rattled off the dates and flight information.
Julia swallowed. What had he done? She’d gotten so comfortable with talking on the phone with him and now everything was going to change. He would come to Red Valley and he would see her and see how blind she was. On the phone it was easy enough to forget, but once he got here he’d be reminded of just how real it was. How permanent.
No.
He couldn’t come here and jeopardize everything they’d built over the past year. Please no.
“I hope it’s okay,” he said when she didn’t say anything in response. “You don’t have any plans that week, do you?”
She couldn’t dash his hopes. He sounded so damn excited.
Why did he have to sound so damn excited?
“Nope, no plans. My calendar is wide open.”
“Great.”
“Are you sure you want to spend your vacation here?” she asked in a last-ditch effort to persuade him to go anywhere but Red Valley.
Blind Ice (Razors Ice Book 5) Page 7
