“That’s why I have Casa Fiorino. I’m so lucky. I can combine career and family all in one bundle.” El smiled and gave a sigh of gratitude. “Theresa, I appreciate your concern, but I think I know where my priorities lie,” El assured her. “With Cole and Christina.”
“I love my son, of course, and his brother, but Cole is away a lot, you know that. You’ll make time for him, and he’ll make whatever time he can for you and Christina.” Theresa leaned forward, winking. “I will kick his butt if he doesn’t,” she confided. “But you’ll be on your own a lot. It’s different for men. Their lives carry on pretty much the same after fatherhood. Women have to be stronger. Accept changes and cope with them. And let go of… control.”
Hannah listened to Theresa’s words with interest. What a wise woman. She seemed to see everything and doled out some sage advice. She wondered if their own mother would say the same. “That doesn’t sound very fair,” she commented.
Theresa smiled at her. “Fairness has very little to do with parenthood. But it’s the most rewarding and wonderful duty in the world. Nothing like it. Every woman should experience it. Such blessings change a person. For the better.”
“It is a blessing,” El offered, nodding.
“A blessing and a responsibility,” Theresa continued. “You’ll laugh, and you’ll cry for your children. You’ll hurt, and you’ll jump for joy with them. There’ll be days when you’ll feel you can’t do it, can’t go on. And when you feel that way, remember this. Being a parent is a privilege, not a right.”
Hannah left the hospital with her mind churning. She hadn’t expected her visit with El and Theresa to be so emotional and yet enlightening at the same time. It made her look at things from a different perspective. Theresa’s insights on parenthood were profound and came from all the right places… from her heart and from experience. In silence, Hannah sent up a prayer that El’s firstborn had turned out to be a girl. She didn’t think perfectionist Eloise could handle a rambunctious and messy boy during the first round. By the time her sons came, she’d be prepared.
El’s admonishing comments came from experience too, but what she’d said about Ryder gave Hannah pause. She didn’t know exactly what El had against him. What was so horrible about working together in the front office? Had Ryder and El gone for the same promotion or something? If Theresa hadn’t turned up, maybe she’d have heard more of the story. As much as she loved and respected her sister, it rankled that El would presume to dictate whom Hannah should like or not like, or what age he should be. Perhaps big sisters, and even bartenders didn’t always know best.
As she walked past the outpatient station on her way to the main exit, she spotted a gray-haired man sitting in a wheelchair reading a magazine. She slowed her steps, thinking he looked familiar. Then it came to her – the man she’d helped into a cab at the fundraiser. She gasped inwardly. He was in bad enough shape to be in the hospital? Her heart went out to him.
“Hello there,” she said, walking up alongside his chair with her warmest smile. “How are you doing?”
The man started and looked up from his tabloid, The Hockey News. He dropped it in his lap and turned aside to stifle a cough, then regarded her with squinting eyes. His face seemed less red and grizzled than she remembered. And sober too.
“Well, pretty young lady,” he said, his voice deep and scratchy. It sounded painful. “Doing okay, nice of you to ask.” His look didn’t suggest he remembered her.
“I’m Hannah, I work at Casa Fiorino. You were there last Friday? I hope you’re feeling better.” Silly statement, she thought. If he felt better, he wouldn’t be in the hospital.
The hooded eyes seemed to light up in recognition. “Oh, yeah.” He put a fist to his mouth and cleared his throat with effort. “Thank you again for your help. What brings you here? Are you a nurse? That would surely make sense. Soft voice and equally soft touch.”
Hannah laughed. “A nurse? Heavens no. Just here visiting my sister.”
The man nodded and attempted a smile. “Nice to have family,” he grunted.
“Yes, it is. I’ll bet you have grandchildren coming to visit you,” she said, hoping to bring a smile to his face.
He glanced down at the magazine in his lap, then seemed to stare off into the distance. “I have sons. Three of them. We don’t really get along. Wife passed already.”
“Oh,” Hannah said, regretting her choice of words. Good thing she wasn’t a nurse. She’d be terrible at it.
A real nurse came out of the station and walked toward them. “Alright, Walter, they’re ready for you,” she said, grasping the handles of the wheelchair. “Say goodbye to your pretty friend. You’re not quite up for the dating scene yet.” Walter chuckled, his laugh dissolving into another uncomfortable bout of coughing.
“Goodbye, Walter,” Hannah said, stepping back as the nurse wheeled him away. She felt sorrier for him than ever. What a pity to have a son and not have a close relationship with him. A privilege, not a right. Theresa Fiorino was a very wise woman.
When she arrived home, Hannah found a courier envelope with her name and the building address on it taped to the mailbox bank. Her heart constricted at the thought it might be from Franklin University. She detached it and turned it over in her shaking hands. She didn’t recognize the originating address.
Willing down her anxiety, she took the elevator up to their unit before opening it. Once inside, amid the sanctuary of El’s massive houseplant conservatory, she tore it open only to reveal another plain white envelope, the size of a greeting card. Both relieved and disappointed, she pulled the flap and slid out a note card with a glossy photo on the front. She stared in confusion. A blonde model wearing an elegant, vintage evening dress. What in the world?
Her breath caught as she opened the card. This was better than any news from any school. The blank interior contained a handwritten note and a five-hundred-dollar gift card from HERS, a chic clothing store in downtown Rochester.
Hannah,
You said there was no way to make up for that dress. Maybe this can help?
I missed you after the game. Since I’m such a dufus, I forgot to ask for your number.
I know you’re way smarter than me, so perhaps you’ll dial mine instead.
I really want to see you again. Hopefully in a fantastic dress.
-Ryder
His cell phone number followed at the bottom of the note. A debilitating flutter started in her chest, and her tongue felt thick in her throat. If this man was a womanizer, he knew how to make a girl weak in the knees. But her heart refused to believe it. This gesture was far too personal, too thoughtful and generous to be just another page from some Casanova’s Pocket Guide to Panty Removal. No man shelled out half a grand just to spread a woman’s legs. He cared. He really cared, and she felt as though she could fly around the room with that knowledge as a jet pack.
She dialed the number before her feet could touch ground again.
“Hello?”
Something twisted low in her belly at the gravelly sound of his voice. “Hi. It’s the smartest girl in Rochester calling. And the luckiest. Thank you for the card.”
His laugh came across as a low, sexy rumble, as though he’d just woken up. It might as well have been a six point five on the Richter scale, shaking her soul to its foundation.
“You’re welcome,” he said, the sly smile forming on his face as visible to her as if he’d been standing in the room. She hoped it was genuine and not diabolical. Even though her heart told her he was sincere, a part of her still doubted him. Eloise was rarely wrong. About anything. “Did you enjoy the game?”
“You got an assistant,” she said. “I don’t know much about hockey, but I know that was a good thing. Congratulations.”
He laughed. A big, booming sound that sent moisture flooding her panties. “Mmm, actually, it’s an assist. A pass to the goal scorer in this case. I was wondering what else I could teach you besides skating. Guess I’ve found my answer.”
>
Hannah smiled and bit her lip, daring herself to ask the next question. “So when’s my next lesson?”
“About hockey?”
Chapter Thirteen
Ryder disconnected the call, closed his eyes, and leaned his head back on the pillow. His happy grin remained in place, and the sweet tones of Hannah’s voice lingered in his ear. A nice way to be roused from sleep. Picturing her naked and splayed out next to him, prepared to indulge his every whim gave him the inspiration to deal with his typical morning erection. Now there was something he’d be happy to teach her.
Except it wasn’t morning. His phone said two-fifteen p.m. He’d laid down for a nap after returning from his trip to the mall to pick out the card and gift for her. He’d pretty much gone straight home after the game last night. Though his body was in top condition, the mental stress and anxiety building up over the weeks of tryouts had taken their toll. He felt tapped out.
It did feel a little weird being home in the middle of a weekday. He’d been an office guy for so long, it would take some getting used to not having an eight to five schedule. But he’d best not get too used to it just yet. Staring the wrath of Sheehan Murphy straight in the face, Kristoff had begrudgingly signed off on a month’s leave of absence while he pursued his dream. If the Riot didn’t offer him a contract, he’d be back behind his desk in a matter of weeks, trying to yank the chain off the concrete ball.
Hell no. He forced his doubts and that disagreeable picture away and replayed his minutes on the ice in his mind. On his first shift, he’d proven himself – made a meaningful contribution to the team by setting up Jones for that goal. It led to more ice time, only nine minutes in total but not bad for an untried player. Rookies sometimes didn’t even get that. He’d shown them, shown them all. They had to give him that contract.
They had to. He’d give them everything. Lay it all out on the ice. So much that there could only be one outcome.
A contract.
He was scheduled to play the remaining two home games before Christmas break, and his performance would either make it or break it. Though he wanted to explore this relationship with Hannah, he had to put all his focus into the team now. Nothing could distract him from that, even the lure of scoring some young, tight pussy. Her kiss held the promise of better things to come, there was no need to rush.
As he moved to ease his aching hard-on, he wondered what kind of underwear she fancied. Thongs? Lacy little push-up bras with front closures? Even better, thigh highs and garters? Yeah. Like that. The kind he could snap open with one hand and pull the skimpy fabric from between her lovely round ass cheeks with his teeth. Then spank her and tell her what a bad girl she was. And show her how she could be much, much naughtier under his expert guidance.
***
“I can’t believe you guys are home! Oh, let me see her,” Hannah squealed, helping Eloise in the door with her bags and belongings. The most important package came in the form of Christina herself, safely swaddled inside her industrial-grade baby carrier. The Fiorinos clearly would spare no expense when it came to quality children’s accessories.
They could certainly afford it.
His Riot ball cap askew, Cole shuffled in behind Eloise, carrying gift bags and flower arrangements they’d received from friends while still at the Mayo.
“Holy shit,” he said. “Who knew having a baby entailed impersonating a UPS man? Everyone knows that brown is not my color.”
Despite his complaints, Hannah could tell he was going to be one star-struck daddy, hopelessly under the spell of his own little princess. Her first headwear was sure to be a tiara – one that would fit underneath a hockey helmet.
By happy coincidence, they got the green light for mom and baby to come home on December sixteenth, Eloise’s birthday.
“What a great birthday present,” Hannah said as El set the carrier down. She crouched and peered under the bright colored canopy to see Christina sleeping peacefully under several layers of covering. Sprigs of black hair that stuck out from under a knitted bonnet framed her tiny face. “Sweet dreams little monkey,” she whispered, “welcome home.” Hannah stood to give Eloise a hug. “And to you too. Happy Birthday, sis. I’m sorry I didn’t get you a present yet.”
“Thanks, Hanna-bee. No worries. The only gift I want right now is a long hot bath.”
“I’ll run it for you,” Hannah said. “Bubbles, I presume?”
“Please.”
Hannah scurried down the hall to the master bath to start the water running, passing the nursery that had formerly been Eloise’s home office. She hoped El and Cole would find a house they liked soon because she felt guilty taking up the extra guest room.
She poured a generous capful of El’s favorite coconut-scented bubble bath into the filling tub and lit the candles that ringed the ledge. When the foamy clouds of suds almost spilled over, she twisted the taps closed and turned to leave the room.
Eloise stood in her path.
“What is this,” El asked, holding up the fancy greeting card that Ryder had sent her.
Hannah flinched inwardly. Shit. “Just a card. Sorry, I meant to put it in my room.”
“It was in your room. I went to put some of my flowers in there for you and saw it on the dresser. Why is Ryder Martin sending you notes about dresses via private courier and giving out his phone number?” El cocked her head, waiting for an answer. Her green eyes sported a look that Hannah hadn’t seen in years. The Inquisition. Though she shrank before it out of habit, something else lit inside of her now. Something resembling anger.
“That’s my business, not yours. I can’t believe you read it. That’s private.” She reached out and snatched the card from Eloise.
El dropped her now-empty hand to her hip. “I thought you said you weren’t seeing him.”
Hannah cast her eyes aside and moved past her sister into the bedroom. “I wasn’t. Then. I didn’t lie, and I’m not hiding anything from you. The card just came today.”
Eloise followed. “But you are now? Why? I told you to steer clear of that arrogant asshole. He’s only out for one thing, Hannah. I thought you valued yourself more than as a cheap lay for the Riot’s new token player. Let him go defile some cheap slut and not my sister.”
Why is she doing this? We haven’t fought since I was a teenager. Hannah turned on her. “He’s not an asshole. What did he do to you that made you hate him so much?”
“Fortunately, nothing,” Eloise fumed, her voice raised, “but he sure wanted to. He thinks he can buy his way into a girl’s pants. I showed him differently. And over my dead body is he going to get into my baby sister’s with some extravagant gesture. Christ, he’s trying to transact for your pussy like a john seeking a high-end prostitute.”
Hannah blanched at the harsh words coming from her sister’s mouth. This wasn’t like Eloise at all. Her sister must be overly stressed and tired, so despite her hurt at the words, Hannah tried to cut El some slack. She failed. Even if she was only a freeloading relative, she didn’t need to be lectured, and she didn’t need her privacy invaded. She didn’t want to be mad either, but she couldn’t help it.
“Your post-natal hormones must be kicking in, El,” she argued, putting a hand on her jutting hip and flinging her hair back for good measure. “Remember you’re Christina’s mother, not mine.”
A shuffling noise at the bedroom door broke their standoff. They both turned to see Cole standing there, holding his cell phone in one hand and Christina cradled in the other.
He looked awkwardly between them. “Sorry… the real estate agent just called. That house we saw last month down in Scenic Oaks has come on the market. We need to put an offer in like, fast. That is if that’s still okay with you, sweetie? I know we talked about building, but with the stress of Christina’s early birth, I’m thinking…”
Eloise gave Hannah one last piercing look before moving toward the bathroom. “That’s great news, babes. It really is time to move. And you’re right. I don’t want th
e stress of a new build and dealing with an architect and a contractor. We can do that later on down the line, once you retire and we find our forever home city.”
Hannah stalked away to her own room. She flopped onto the bed, hot tears ready to spill onto her pillow. She knew she’d wear out her welcome eventually but didn’t want it to come to this – fighting and arguing. On El’s birthday too. And only a few weeks until Christmas. Their parents would be arriving soon, then they’d really be jammed in here like sardines. Hannah would likely be relegated to the couch unless Mom and Dad opted for a hotel. Might be a good idea, even better if Hannah stayed there herself. Hannah could already hear her dad’s voice ringing in her ears, gruff with his disapproval again.
Damn. She rolled over onto her back, frustrated. The coming New Year didn’t look so bright for her. Unless…
She couldn’t stop her thoughts from drifting to Ryder. Now that he had her number he’d called and texted her several times, though they hadn’t really seen each other since their skating date. His chance to play for the Riot was far too important. Though angry with her, she now understood El’s situation, having to share her man with his sport. And she’d been right about something else. Once you fell for someone, the heart took over, and it had no ears for criticism.
She reached for her cell phone and scrolled through her contacts, her finger hovering over his name. She punched it and listened to it ring.
“Hey,” he answered. Oh, I could listen to that bedroom-y voice all day long. She felt near melting every time she heard it.
“Hey, am I disturbing you?”
“Never. What’s up?” Hannah heaved a sigh.
“Whoa,” he said. “That sounded like the entire golf dome tent deflating. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
He chuckled and the low rumble caused her belly to contract. “Oh, please. Never say ‘nothing’ to a man. We all know it means ‘something’ and it’s never good. Tell me.”
The Rebound: A Rochester Riot Sports Romance Page 11
