Scoring at Love (Men of the Ice Book 4)

by Michele Shriver

  “I take back what I said about him being an idiot,” Becker said. “Asshole is a more appropriate word.” He reached over and tucked a strand of Kendall’s hair behind her ear so he could see her face better. “I happen to think you’re beautiful and an incredible mother. And you know what else I think?”

  “What’s that?” Kendall’s lips turned upward in the slightest hint of a smile.

  “That quiet and demure are vastly overrated.” Becker grinned. “You have my permission to be as wild and crazy as you want in bed. And preferably again very soon.”

  ***

  Kendall wasn’t quite sure what she’d become since Becker came into her life, but she liked it. She was bolder, for sure. And definitely more confident, but that was probably the result of having a sexy NHL star interested in her. Most importantly, though, she was having fun again. The question was whether it could last. Was she living in a fantasy? Would it come to a crashing halt? After all, she was still a single mother of two young kids, one of them special needs. As much as she enjoyed the time she spent with Beck, she still questioned whether she could really be what he was looking for.

  She tried to bury the lingering doubts and follow Lori’s advice of living in the moment. At the moment, Beck was looking for a movie they could watch from her DVD and Blu-Ray collection.

  “You weren’t kidding when you said you loved Eighties movies.” He pulled Top Gun off the shelf, shook his head, and promptly returned it.

  “You’re not a fan of that one?” Kendall asked.

  Becker shrugged. “No, I like the movie fine. I just don’t know if I can compete with a young Tom Cruise.”

  Kendall rolled her eyes. “Oh, I think you could.” It was hard to believe he suffered from any insecurities.

  He shook his head. “Maybe, but I’m not taking any changes.” He selected another movie from her collection. “How about The Hitcher?”

  “No way.” Kendall shuddered involuntarily. “It scares the living crap out of me.”

  Becker chuckled at the expression. Gosh, she was adorable. “Then why do you own it?”

  “Because it’s a cult classic.”

  “That it is.” He put it back on the shelf and continued looking, finally selecting another movie. “You have Youngblood? Now that, I wasn’t expecting.”

  “Why? I told you I had a huge collection of Eighties movies.”

  “Yeah, but I thought you weren’t a hockey fan,” Becker said.

  “That’s not true,” Kendall said with a touch of defensiveness. “There’s a lot about the game that I like. Just not the violence. And besides, I happen to be a Rob Lowe fan.” After Beck’s remark about Tom Cruise, she figured that admission would be enough to make him choose another movie. Instead, he surprised her.

  “Let’s watch it.”

  “You’re sure?” She didn’t know true hockey fans enjoyed the movie, which certainly had its cheesy moments.

  “Yeah.” Becker nodded. “Even though I think Rob Lowe’s a little too pretty to be convincing as a tough guy hockey player, it’s not a bad movie.”

  “Too pretty?” Kendall couldn’t help but laugh. “Hockey players can’t be pretty, huh? I know quite a few women who would disagree with that after looking at you and some of your teammates.”

  “No way,” Becker said. “Okay, I suppose Nik’s kind of pretty, in a young sort of way. And Casey thinks he’s a total stud. But me? I’m definitely not a pretty boy.”

  “If you say so.” Kendall found him plenty pretty, but was willing to let it go. “I like the message of the movie about never giving up.” She took the disc from him and put in the player.

  “Me too,” Becker said. “And about striving to be the best you can be.” They settled on the couch as the movie began, and he put his arm around her.

  Kendall rested her head against his shoulder. “Is that why you wanted to coach in the youth camps? To help young boys and girls strive to be the best?”

  “That’s one reason, yes,” he said. “Well, that and I wanted my pretty mug on a highway billboard.”

  It was clearly a joke and Kendall laughed before turning serious again. “It’s a really good thing you guys are doing. I can already see how it’s benefitted Tristan in just a few weeks.”

  “Tristan’s a good kid.” Becker turned his head to plant a kiss on Kendall’s forehead. “Which is no surprise to me because he has an incredible mom.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Becker woke early on Saturday morning and slipped out of Kendall’s bed while she was still in a deep slumber. As much as he’d love a repeat of the shower encounter of a few days before, he had more important things on his mind today. Although she didn’t talk much about it and tried to keep their conversations from delving too far into the details of her failed marriage, Becker sensed Kendall was a woman who wanted to find her own way in the world and feel better about herself again. Why she seemed to blame herself for the end of her marriage, when Carter was clearly the problem, Becker didn’t understand, but either way, he wanted to make her feel special.

  To do that, he needed a little help. He’d lived in San Antonio for less than a year, and much of that year had been spent on the road during the busy hockey season. He knew a few good restaurants and the basic tourist attractions that virtually everyone was familiar with, but he was far from an expert on the city, so Becker turned to someone who was. Colton’s new fianceé, Maya Dominguez, who was a native of the Alamo City.

  Naturally, Colton had questions when Becker called him at such an early hour, but Beck did his best to deflect them and asked to speak to Maya.

  “What’s up, Becker?” the sports reporter asked when she came on the line. “Colton tells me it’s something of an emergency.”

  “A minor emergency, yes.” One of the things Becker loved about his Generals teammates is that they were a close-knit group, almost acting as an extension of family. And that included their significant others, as well. He had little doubt that Maya would come through for him. “I need to know a special place to take a woman. Someplace that’s open today, and something that will completely wow her, and if you say the Riverwalk, I might never speak to you again.” Beck had been there before, and it was a tourist haven. He doubted Kendall would be impressed.

  On the other end of the line, Maya chuckled. “You’re a wise man, Becker. Madre de dios, I hate that place.”

  “I don’t hate it,” Becker said, “but it’s not right for this. I want to take Kendall somewhere special and romantic.”

  “Oh, my. Is this getting serious?” Maya wanted to know. “Are you falling in love?”

  Was he? Becker considered the question. He certainly hadn’t set out to fall in love, but it was impossible to deny that Kendall had become very important to him in a short period of time, and he wanted this thing they had—whatever he called it—to continue. Was that love? Maybe not, but Becker figured it was something pretty close to it. “Maybe. Possibly. I could be heading down that path,” he admitted. “So I don’t want to screw this up.”

  “And I won’t let you,” Maya assured him. “What kinds of things does she like?”

  Good question. He knew she liked seafood and Eighties movies. Oh, and sex. She enjoyed it, too, obviously quite a lot. That wasn’t information for Maya, though. Becker scratched his head and looked around her house for clues. “Plants,” he said. “She likes plants and flowers.” At least he assumed she did, because the front room was full of them.

  “Perfect. I know just the place.”

  Five minutes later, Becker thanked Maya and hung up the phone, confident he was armed with the information needed to make the day a memorable one. Next, he had to find something in Kendall’s kitchen to fix for breakfast. His search yielded a predictable assortment of kids’ cereals and toaster pastries, but also thankfully eggs, cheese and some sliced ham. Perfect.

  He was busy making omelettes when Kendall walked into the kitchen, and Becker greeted her with a smile. “Hi, sexy.” She certai
nly was, with her hair disheveled both from sleep and the passion that had preceded it.

  “You’re still here?”

  “Of course I’m still here. Where else would I be?”

  “I don’t know. Never mind.” She made her way to the coffee pot. “I woke up and you weren’t in bed, so I figured you probably left.”

  Becker frowned. Had she really thought that? Apparently so. “Without saying goodbye? Never. I just came down to fix you breakfast. Do you like omelettes?”

  “Of course,” Kendall said. “You cook, too?”

  “Sometimes, with varying degrees of success.” He shrugged. “I don’t exactly have a lot of specialties, but I am pretty good at omelettes, if I do say so myself.” Using a spatula, Becker placed one on a plate and handed it to her.

  “This looks great,” she said.

  “I hope it tastes that way, too. Come on, give it a try,” he urged. “And we should probably eat fast because I have a big day planned for us.”

  ***

  When Kendall woke to find the other side of the bed empty, she assumed the worst—that Becker left without even saying goodbye. Maybe she’d become accustomed to assuming and expecting the worst. The past few years had been filled with adversity.

  Instead, she got the quite the surprise when she walked into the kitchen and found him standing at the stove cooking breakfast, and wearing nothing but a pair of sweat pants. There were worse ways to begin a day, that was for sure.

  It turned out breakfast was only the beginning of what Becker had in mind for their big day, though. No, when Becker talked big, he apparently went all in, with a trip to one of Kendall’s favorite places in San Antonio, the Botanical Garden.

  “How did you know I love this place?” she asked, as they strolled hand in hand along the Texas Native Trail, admiring the Mistflower and Pokeweed.

  “I don’t know. Lucky guess?” Becker gave a casual shrug. “You seem to have a lot of plants and flowers in your house.”

  “I do, yeah. Carter always complained it looked like a jungle.”

  “And I think we’ve already established that Carter has questionable taste.” Becker paused to read more about the Lantana plant. “This one’s nice. I like the colors.”

  “And you’ve got good taste,” Kendall said. “I like Lantana flowers, even though some people think they’re a nuisance because they can grow out of control. Did you know there’s a movie about them?”

  “What? No.” His brow furrowed. “Someone made a movie about a plant?”

  “Not exactly.” Kendall let out a chuckle. “It’s actually a mystery. An Australian film, and it’s named after the plant,” she explained. “A woman’s body is found on the side of the road in a Lantana bush. And that’s all I’m going to say. You’ll have to watch it if you want to learn the significance.”

  “I’d like that,” Becker said. “Maybe tonight? I’m guessing you have this movie in your collection?”

  Tonight. They hadn’t specifically discussed him staying the whole weekend, but Kendall had hoped he would. Now he seemed to be confirming it. “Of course.” Kendall brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t have only Eighties movies,” she said. “And I’d love to watch it with you later.”

  “Great. Something else to look forward to.”

  They continued their self-guided tour, stopping to take pictures along the way, including a selfie kiss in front of the pavilion, which prompted an older woman to offer to take their picture. They happily accepted, and posed with their arms around each other.

  “You look so happy,” the woman said, handing Kendall’s phone back to her. “Very much in love.”

  In love? Were they? Kendall hadn’t thought about it before, having been too caught up in the fantasy and the excitement of the new romance—at least when the self-doubt wasn’t creeping in and making her think it could never last. But now she allowed she herself to think about it. Was this real? Could it be? Perhaps the better question was could it last? She’d been down that road before and it didn’t end well. “Thank you,” she said to the other woman, before they moved past the pavilion. “We should go try to spot some birds now,” Kendall suggested to Beck.

  “I’d like that,” he said. “Maybe after lunch.”

  “Oh, do you want to eat at the Carriage House Bistro?” she asked, referring to the restaurant at the garden.

  He shook his head. “No, I was thinking more along the lines of a picnic, if you’re up for it? Maybe by the fountain?”

  A picnic? When did he have time to think about a picnic lunch? Was that what was in the backpack he’d taken into the garden, saying it held sunscreen and ball cap. “That sounds nice. What are we eating?”

  “You’ll see.”

  ***

  Becker sensed a change from the lighthearted mood of the day once the woman who took their picture made the remark about them appearing to be in love. It didn’t bother him. He’d been coming to grips with the possibility ever since Maya had suggested it. Yes, he could definitely love Kendall. On some level, even if it hadn’t fully reached his consciousness, he probably already did.

  Was she ready for it, though? Judging from the way she changed the subject to one of birds, he guessed not. Thankfully, Becker had lunch packed to try to get things back on a better track. Even if it was only convenience store deli sandwiches he’d picked up on the way, under the guise of purchasing sunscreen.

  As he got them out of the backpack, it was Becker’s turn to feel self-conscious. Maybe the bistro on the garden grounds would have been a better choice. It was too late now. “Chicken Caesar wrap?” he asked. “Or the turkey BLT?”

  “Chicken, if you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all.” Becker passed it to her. “I figured you’d like that one.”

  She smiled. “You’re getting to know me pretty well.”

  “I think so, but there’s always more to learn.” And I look forward to all of it. Becker unwrapped his sandwich just as Kendall’s phone rang and she reached to grab it from her purse. “Do you have to answer that?”

  She frowned as she glanced at the display. “Yes. It’s Carter. It might be about the kids.” She swiped at the screen to answer. “Hello?”

  That was all Becker heard before Kendall got up and walked away from him to take the call from her ex-husband. Maybe he was being selfish, not wanting her to answer it, but damn it, he wanted her to himself right now, not rushing to answer calls from the asshole who’d been stupid enough to divorce her.

  It was Becker who felt like the asshole, though, when Kendall rushed toward him, her face white. He could tell something was very wrong even before she said, “I have to go. Alison’s in the hospital.”

  “What?” Fear gripped him, too.

  “She had a seizure, and Carter just took her to the ER.” Kendall was shaking. “I’m sorry, Beck, but I have to go. Can you drive me there?”

  Did she even have to ask? Becker hurried to pack up the lunch. “Of course.” No way was he leaving her side right now.

  Chapter Twelve

  Fortunately, traffic was light, and they made it to the hospital without much delay. Becker held Kendall’s hand as they were escorted to Alison’s room, and Kendall was grateful he was there. Even though seizures weren’t uncommon for children with Rett syndrome, it always scared Kendall when Ali had a seizure, especially when she wasn’t there and didn’t know the severity. Carter had sounded panicked on the phone, and that told her a lot. They got to the room to find Ali asleep, but that didn’t mean anything. Another seizure could come at any time.

  “Is she okay?” Kendall asked.

  A slightly heavyset nurse looked up from checking Ali’s vital signs. “Are you her mom?”

  “Yes.” Who else would she be? Kendall bit back the sarcastic remark. “How is she?”

  “At the moment, she’s stable,” the nurse said. The identification badge clipped to her scrub top said her name was Lauren. “She’s resting and things seem to be under cont
rol, but we want to make sure this kind of thing doesn’t happen again, so we may need to run a few tests and possibly try some new medications,” she explained. “Dr. Marks will be in soon to talk with you.”

  Kendall nodded. “Okay, thank you.” She took a deep breath. Yes, she was a nervous wreck, but the nurse was right. Ali seemed stable now. She slumped into a chair as the nurse left, and Beck stayed by her side, leaning against the wall and resting one hand on the back of her chair. “What happened?” she asked Carter.

  “I don’t know for sure, it was all so sudden,” he said. “We were over at the park in my neighborhood and I was kicking a soccer ball around with Tristan. Alison was in her chair, watching us. At first she seemed perfectly normal... well, normal for her. Then she had these sudden jerky movements, before she lost consciousness.” Carter took a breath. “So I rushed her here and I called you.”

  ‘Normal for her?’ Carter’s words infuriated Kendall, and she wanted to lash out at him, but something else he said triggered a different response other than her usual anger and dismay at her ex-husband’s weaknesses as a parent. “She was unconscious?” Kendall struggled to find her voice. “You mean my daughter’s in a coma?”

  “She’s not in a coma.” A petite young blonde stepped into the room. “Alison is conscious, but sleeping. Her brain activity shows a normal sleep pattern, and if we presented her with a strong stimuli she’d wake up,” the woman explained. “But right now, rest is good for her, so maybe we should step outside for a minute so we can talk?”

  “I’m sorry, but you are?” Carter wanted to know.

  It was the same question Kendall wanted to ask, though not quite as rudely. The woman wore black scrub pants and a red scrub top with what appeared to be Marvel comic characters on it, but aside from the customary hospital attire, she could probably pass for a model. Or a puck bunny at one of Becker’s games. And where did that come from?