Home Ice (Portland Storm Book 11)

by Catherine Gayle

  That meant he had to be careful. I understood that even if I’d never experienced anything like it myself. Some of those girls might try to trap him, and then he’d have a world of problems to sort out, both personal and potentially legal. Not something he needed to add to his plate right now. Our general manager, Jim Sutter, and I had already given him plenty to work on as soon as he was medically cleared to return to the ice. He didn’t need to add any off-ice issues to his agenda right now.

  This girl was not one he needed to be wary of, though, and I didn’t need to know her personally in order to be certain of that fact.

  I smiled at Sophie. She gripped 501’s hand harder and hugged her cheek to his arm, oblivious to the look of panic in his eyes or the fact that, for as much as she was holding on to him, he was doing his best not to touch her in any way. The look on her face was one of pure bliss. I doubted she would stop smiling for a week, which made it difficult to suppress my own smile.

  “Are you excited to spend the day with him?” I asked.

  “Mom didn’t say we would get to meet Levi,” she said. “Best surprise ever, Mr. Coach.”

  “Sounds like it to me. But you can call me Bergy.” I dug out my wallet and removed a few bills, then passed them over to my young defenseman. “I’ve got a few things I have to see to before I can help you out. Take them up to the press box. Show them around, introduce them to whoever they want to meet up there, buy them some snacks and drinks. Just be yourself.” Then I thought to add, “But watch your language. I’ll be up to join you before everything gets started.”

  “But…I…”

  The kid looked like a lost puppy, to the point I was tempted to pet him. Something told me Sophie might take care of that for me if the idea came to her. I knew better than to be the one to plant the idea in her head.

  “You’ll be fine,” I promised him. “They’re just girls. Besides, they’ve got their mother with them.”

  Based on what I’d seen so far, I had no doubt Paige Calhoun was the sort of mother who would prevent her daughters from doing anything that would put 501 in harm’s way. Even now, she was watching Sophie like a hawk, not that there was anything to worry about. She should be more worried about me and 501 doing something to Sophie, since she didn’t know us at all, but her focus was squarely on making sure her daughter didn’t do anything she shouldn’t.

  I understood it better than most. Growing up with a younger sister born with Down syndrome gave me a good grasp on the single-minded determination those kids could have, not to mention the fact that they often missed social cues that other kids would pick up. But I also knew they tended to have hearts of gold.

  The thing was, underneath it all, they were just like the rest of us. They were just people, and that meant Sophie was just a girl like any other her age in so many ways. She had hormones and would experience crushes and love and heartache the same as everyone else. And right now? She had the opportunity to spend the whole day with her crush. I’d be damned if I didn’t do whatever it took to make it a memorable day for her and her entire family. If I could have done something similar for Linnea when she was this age, I would have done it in a heartbeat.

  “You’re sure, Bergy?” 501 said, looking at me like I was a madman. And maybe he was right about that. “I mean… This is… I don’t—”

  “Positive,” Sophie responded, despite the fact that he hadn’t asked her anything at all. She tightened her grip on him. “You’re my date.”

  I arched a brow and nodded. “I think Sophie’s got the right of it.” I clapped a hand on 501’s shoulder in encouragement and nudged him in the direction of Sophie’s mother and sisters. “All right,” I said once we were next to them again, unable to stop myself from looking in Paige’s direction. Paige’s allure was far different from Sophie’s but no less magnetic. I needed to watch myself around her. For all I knew, she was married. Even if she wasn’t, that meant she was a single mother. Either way, she had a hell of a lot more in her life that needed her focus than me finding her attractive. I smiled for her. Couldn’t stop myself, actually. “Looks like you’re all set. I’ll be up to help out in a bit, but in the meantime, you’re in good hands.”

  The oldest of the daughters looked like she was about to pass out, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from 501. One of the others was having the opposite reaction to being near him, nearly bursting out of her skin with the sort of exuberance and overabundance of energy that could only come from teenage hormones.

  But even though her girls certainly drew my eye momentarily, it was Paige who held my attention. She had the most amazing long hair that fell straight down her back, almost pure black in color and as thick and luxurious as I’d ever seen. She was petite and fit, and she seemed to know that she was gorgeous exactly as she was, not bothering with more than a light dusting of makeup.

  Her uneasiness over the current situation appeared to be getting the best of her, as she shifted from foot to foot and reached up to resituate the strap of her purse over her shoulder. That action drew my eye to her hand. More specifically, to her ring finger. Which was bare. I wasn’t sure why I’d bothered to notice that, but I had. And she saw the recognition hit my face, too, if her sudden blinking was any indication.

  But then she shook her head, as if that would be enough to brush whatever was bothering her aside. Her expression was as apologetic as I’d ever seen, which was saying something. My own mother had spent years apologizing for Linnea, even though there’d been no damned good reason to apologize, before she’d finally broken the habit. Something told me Paige hadn’t managed that feat yet. She opened her mouth, but I cut her off before she could tell me she was sorry. That was the last thing she needed to say, and I definitely didn’t need to hear it.

  “My sister has Down syndrome,” I said.

  I wasn’t sure why I told her that other than it was the first thing that came to mind and the only thing that came to my lips in time to stop her apology. And it worked. She snapped her mouth closed, and everything about her appearance changed in an instant. Her hazel eyes softened, and she dropped her hand to her side instead of attempting to force Sophie to release 501’s arm.

  “Does she?” Paige asked.

  Sophie lit up. “You have a sister, Bergy? Where is she? I want to meet her.”

  I chuckled. “She’s in Sweden. I don’t think you’ll be able to meet her today.”

  “Okay. Maybe tomorrow.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Paige said. “You have to go back to school on Monday.”

  “Can Levi come to school with me? I want to show him to my friends.”

  With that, 501 tensed up.

  “I bet we can get some pictures to show your friends,” I said, and he started breathing again. I glanced at my watch. “But for you, I think you should go have some fun with him.”

  “Okay,” Sophie said. She took off walking in the wrong direction, dragging 501 alongside her. The rest of the Calhouns followed in their wake.

  Somehow, 501 must have convinced Sophie that he knew a better way of getting to their ultimate destination, because they turned around and shuffled past me heading in the appropriate direction.

  “Give me twenty minutes,” I called out as they passed me by.

  501 nodded, wide-eyed, but it was Paige’s expression that once again drew my eye. She seemed completely and utterly perplexed as her head swiveled so she could take me in.

  And now, whether it was a good idea or not, I really wanted to get to know her.

  It wasn’t much longer before we were given the royal treatment ten times over. Levi took us up a private elevator and led us through a series of halls we never would have been able to see otherwise. Every now and then, a security guard would ask to see our badges, which Sophie would lift up high in the air and wave around for them, but then they would wave us through. We stopped at a concession stand and Levi bought the girls drinks and snacks—despite my attempt to pay for them myself—before showing us around the
press box. He introduced us to the Storm’s television crew as well as Axel Johansson and Jiri Dvorak, a couple of other players who, like Levi, were currently injured and ineligible to participate on the ice today.

  Now he’d found us all seats together near the front of the box. Axel and Jiri joined us, spreading out between my girls, who giggled and tittered nervously. Well, all of them but Sophie. I’d never seen my youngest so confident. She hadn’t released Levi’s hand once since she’d first latched on to him, and I was positive I would have to pry her fingers loose later. The poor guy would have to go to the bathroom sometime, at the very least, and she couldn’t very well follow him in there. Not that she wouldn’t try. I knew her better than to think she would voluntarily release him any time in the next decade. He’d be lucky to find his freedom within a century or two.

  I sat down a couple of rows behind them all, close enough to be certain that none of my girls did anything they shouldn’t—always a concern, considering the sheer number of hormones wreaking havoc on my household these days—but giving them enough distance so they wouldn’t feel as if I were breathing down their necks.

  The lights in the arena dimmed, the music cranked up, and the stage lights started to flash. A video came up on the Jumbotron overhead at the same time as I felt someone take a seat next to me.

  Based on the hit of expensive cologne that wafted over to me and tickled my nostrils, I had no doubt that someone was actually the coach. He smelled good enough to eat, a realization that made my belly flutter like it hadn’t done in years. Not since well before Dan and I divorced, actually. The spark had gone out years before we’d given up on the marriage, fading in the strain of countless specialist visits and oodles of therapist appointments that had been necessary for Sophie’s development.

  They say there aren’t many marriages that are strong enough to withstand the strain of raising a special needs child. I now had the firsthand knowledge to be able to say that they, whoever they might be, were absolutely one hundred percent right.

  But now I had butterflies in my belly for the first time in well over a decade, and it was because of this man sitting to my left, close enough to me that his body heat melded with my own.

  The truth was there simply hadn’t been time for attraction or lust or a fling. There hadn’t even been time for me. All my energy had been put into making sure my daughters had everything they needed, and when I got as close to meeting those needs as I possibly could, I collapsed in a heap and attempted to get what sleep was possible. No matter what, I always felt inadequate and stretched too thin. I worried that I wasn’t giving Zoe, Evie, and Izzy the support they needed because I was so fixated on Sophie. I knew that no matter how much of my focus I gave Sophie, it wasn’t enough. There just wasn’t time for any sort of romantic relationship, and if I couldn’t make the time to sleep, then I definitely didn’t have time for sex. I hadn’t even thought about it in years because the simple act of thinking about sex required energy I couldn’t muster.

  But all of a sudden, being in Mattias Bergstrom’s presence had parts of my body coming alive that had long since been dormant, and I couldn’t say I minded. At the very least, it served as a good reminder that I was very much still a woman, not just a mother. It was good to know I hadn’t completely lost that side of myself.

  “I didn’t mean to be pushy,” he said quietly. The girls and his players were all busy talking and laughing and watching the spectacle below us, so I doubted they would have heard him anyway. “I just thought of my sister when I saw Sophie, and I wanted to give her an experience she wouldn’t otherwise be able to have. It was instinct.”

  “I wasn’t positive you recognized you might be stepping on my toes,” I said. The fact that he realized he was overstepping, considering we’d only just met, was a point in his favor. Those only seemed to be adding up. I needed to keep an eye on my response to this man before I got myself into trouble. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate—”

  “You don’t need to explain.”

  I glanced over at him and locked on to his blue-gray eyes, which seemed to see straight into my soul, but that was enough to convince me to take him at his word. I seemed to put so much effort into explaining things, because most of the world didn’t really understand what Down syndrome was, that it was second nature. It was nice to be around someone who simply understood. I smiled. I couldn’t help it.

  “I promise I won’t offer your girls anything else without talking to you first,” Mattias said. The way he looked at me when he said it left me breathless, almost trembling. He might as well have told me I was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, because that was what his eyes were saying to me. Those words had a decidedly more profound effect on me than anything he could have said about my appearance might have, anyway.

  “Thank you for that.” Belatedly, I realized I was staring down at my hands in my lap, my sudden shyness similar to Zoe’s when she’d seen her crush across the concourse, and I forced myself to meet his gaze again. Good grief. I was thirty-nine years old. I should be able to look in a man’s eyes without falling apart like my teenaged daughter at my age, and I’d be damned if I wouldn’t manage it.

  He smiled. Heaven help me, he had the most amazing smile. It was bold and confident but nowhere close to being cocky.

  “I thought hockey players were supposed to be missing half their teeth,” I joked. But then I remembered that he was the coach, not one of the players, and I wished I could take it back. Not that you could tell he wasn’t a player based on his size.

  He was every inch as big and strong as the three younger men seated in front of us. Maybe even bigger. There was no hiding the muscle filling out his frame, not even under the impeccable suit he wore, and their builds were closer to those of teenaged boys. It took years to build up the kind of muscle mass Mattias had. I knew muscles as well as I knew the back of my hand. I worked with them every day. Even with my eyes closed, I could tell so many things about a person just using my sense of touch.

  But Mattias winked. “Now that I’m not playing anymore, I got permanent bridges put in.” Then he flashed that smile at me again, not that I could tell the difference between the real teeth or the fake ones.

  Yeah. That was a panty-melting smile if ever there was one. Poof! My panties might as well be gone. Which meant my brain had already all but disappeared.

  If I had to spend too much time in this man’s presence, I was due for some serious trouble.

  “So you played before you coached?” I asked, trying to bring everything internal back under control.

  “Nearly two decades in the National Hockey League. I grew up playing hockey in Stockholm. My grandparents made a lot of sacrifices so I could play, especially once my sister came into the picture. She needed so much of my parents’ time and their resources, it was the only way I would have been able to play.”

  I didn’t know what social services were like in Sweden, but I knew all too well what they were like here. Dan and I put every penny we could into Sophie’s trust. She’d be able to get a job someday, but it wouldn’t be the sort of job that would support her. At least she would have her sisters once the two of us were gone, but the more we could have already in place for her, the better.

  But, as tempting as it was to talk to him more about his sister, I ended up putting my foot in my mouth again.

  “How many teeth did you lose?”

  “A dozen?” He gave me an odd look, as if he thought I could confirm or deny his response. “No, maybe it was thirteen.”

  “That’s a lot of teeth to lose.”

  “Yes, but it was a small price to pay to be able to build the career I had. Actually, the one I have,” he corrected himself.

  “I suppose you must love hockey. It’s nice to be able to make a career out of doing something you love.”

  “You sound like someone who has experience doing exactly that.”

  I arched a brow. “Do I?”

  “Like recognizes like,�
� he replied, a knowing tone coloring his words.

  And he was right. I did love my work. Massage therapy was physically exhausting work but as rewarding as anything I’d ever done outside of being a mother. “I suppose you’re right,” I finally conceded after he continued to eye me with a hint of a smirk.

  “So, tell me, Paige,” he said. “Is it all right if I call you Paige?”

  “Yes.” At the moment, I was fine with him calling me anything, as long as he would keep talking. He had a smooth, rich voice, and the hint of his Swedish accent was just enough to present some spice, like chocolate with a hint of cinnamon.

  “Paige. I like that name. You can call me Matti if you want.”

  “Matti? Is that what everyone calls you?”

  “Not everyone,” he said. “Just my sister. But you can call me that if it fits for you.”

  “Oh.” The word came out sounding soft and dreamy. Sitting here and talking with him made me feel soft and dreamy. But he didn’t look like a Matti to me. He seemed much too dignified for that. Too hot. “I think I’ll stick with Mattias, if you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t mind.” The corners of his eyes crinkled. It didn’t make him look old, just insanely handsome. “Tell me what it is you love to do, Paige.”

  I didn’t even pause to think. Before I could stop myself, I said, “To look at you.” I could have shot myself for blurting that out, but there was no taking it back.

  And there was no deluding myself into thinking he might have missed it, either. Not with the way he chuckled. “I love to look at you, too,” Mattias said. “I think I’m enjoying it a lot more than I should.”