by Avery Flynn
She wasn't foolish enough to think just a few weeks would be enough, or would be smart. After all the drama with her ex, she didn't need more from Rod, no matter how right it felt when he'd kissed her.
Rod held the door for Arielle, then followed her into his house. He set the bags filled with hockey equipment and other random presents for Jacob by the door. Dylan's car wasn't in the driveway, and the house was quiet.
Arielle held the bag from the art supply store in her hand. "I should go."
"Or, you could stay for a cup of coffee." He didn't want to press her for a decision, didn't want to push, but damn it, he wanted to spend time with her that didn't include sales associates, other shoppers, or navigating through aisles while toting bags of hockey equipment.
Her soft laughter filled the hallway. "Exactly how many cups do you drink a day?"
"I don't keep count. A lot? If not coffee, then how about dinner?"
"Well…" Her stomach rumbled, and she flushed and pressed her hand to it.
"Stay. Eat with me. I hate eating alone."
For a moment, while her eyes darted from the bag to the floor to him, he thought she might leave, but then she set down her bags. "All right. I can help you cook."
"Great." He led her into the kitchen and pulled open the fridge. Stocked full. Dylan must have gone shopping. He pulled out salmon and asparagus and then grabbed orzo from the pantry. "Can you handle the salad? I'll be right back."
While Arielle sliced vegetables, he headed into his bedroom and pulled one of his most prized possessions from his suitcase and slipped it into his pocket. Maybe it would help her understand and trust in his feelings.
Patting his pocket, he made his way back to the kitchen. Arielle looked over and smiled, and seeing her there filled his soul with so much longing that an ache formed in his chest. They worked well together, cooking the meal, and then lingered over eating it, sitting together while the lazy summer evening stretched out before them. Arielle's gaze held his for longer and longer periods without her cheeks blushing and she laughed a lot and spoke easily and frequently, but she still seemed to hold part of herself back. Rod felt that prized possession burning a hole in his pocket.
After they'd finished a dessert of decaf coffee and a shared slice of an apple crumble that his brother probably had intended for himself, he pulled the paper from his pocket. Heart racing, he unfolded the rectangle that had accompanied him on every move he'd made in his hockey career. "You drew this for me years ago. You might not even remember it."
Eyes growing wide, she slowly shook her head. "No way. No way do you still have that."
"Yes, way." The sketch of him in his high school hockey uniform, mask pushed up on top of his head, standing in front of the net, was wrinkled and worn thin at the creases. "Right after you drew this, we won the state championship. I've kept it with me ever since. I've always thought it was good luck."
"I can't believe you kept it." She traced her finger down the side of the paper. "I was so embarrassed that day when you caught me sketching you. I made up the excuse about needing to draw live action models for my art class project."
"That wasn't true?" Intrigued, he leaned in closer, studying her face.
Her shoulders lifted in a shrug, and her cheeks flushed pink. "I was bored waiting for Ben to finish hockey practice and drive me home, and you were so cute that I couldn't help myself. My fingers itched to sketch you."
"Cute, hmm?" Thrilled, he laid the paper on the counter and then shifted closer.
"But you were a big time senior, and I was a shy little sophomore. You were always nice to me, but I didn't think you saw me as anything other than Ben's little sister."
"I told you last night that I had a thing for you back then."
"Yeah. And the grown up version of me still finds that hard to believe."
In an instant, he stood beside her. He cupped her small shoulders in his hands. "Does she? I'm more than happy to show her I still feel that way."
"Rod… Wait." Arielle's fingertips touched his chest, right over his heart.
He tamped down his desire. "What's wrong?"
"This is…huge. For me, I mean. I'm not… After what happened with—"
"Don't say his name." Rod pressed his finger to her lips. "He's not a part of this. We are. And it's huge for me too, Ari. I don't know where I'm going to end up playing next season, but I do know I want a chance with you."
"But you're only going to be here for a few weeks, then it's off to New Orleans or a brand new city. What happens then?"
The uncertainty and the longing in her gaze tugged forth his need to soothe both at any cost. "We make it work. You're a priority. And I don't cheat."
"I want to believe you…but…" She bit her lip and Rod had zero problem filling in that but. Matt had ripped a hole in her confidence, in her trust, and in her heart.
"Then I'll just have to convince you." He leaned in and brushed his lips over the soft fullness of hers. "You've known me for years. You know how important Ben and Jacob are to me. No way would I hurt you."
A long breath fluttered out of her parted lips. "I'm tougher now than I used to be."
The wounded vulnerability in her voice and the brave jutting of her chin sliced into him. He hated Matt even more for making Arielle raise guards around her heart.
"I'll prove it to you. By the time I sign with a new team, you'll believe me. Just give me that chance." The words were confident and sure, and he hoped she fully believed the sincerity in his pledge. He cradled her sweet face gingerly between his palms.
She caught hold of his wrists and her eyes stared into his. Was she trying to see into his soul?
After a long moment, she nodded. "I'll try."
Relief swept through him, and Rod wrapped his arms around her, riding out the sensation. His pulse pounded like he'd downed a triple espresso. The way Arielle fit in his arms was better than anything he’d felt before. Better than making any game-saving goal. He lowered his head to hers, transfixed by her deep, deep green eyes. "Thank you."
He cupped her jaw and groaned as her fingers traced patterns on his back. When her eyes closed, he crushed his lips against hers. Then groaned again as the flavor of coffee blended with Arielle's own sweetness. She sighed into his mouth as he sought a deeper taste.
Her hand slipped into his hair, tugging at the strands, and she pressed her soft curves into his body. Her sudden impatience roughened his responses and ramped up his need. He fisted his hand in her hair, and his other hand traveled to her hip and then slipped under her shirt. He skimmed his fingers along the soft skin of her waist and ascended higher to caress her lace-covered breast.
On a sharp intake of air, she snuggled closer and kissed his jaw. The sweetness she possessed demanded that he keep things light and take it slow. The flash of headlights through the window and the car turning into the driveway reminded him they were in the middle of the kitchen he shared with his brother, and that Dylan and possibly Kelsey would be walking in the door any minute. And, the friendship he shared with her brother meant they needed to talk to Ben before things went further—not asking for permission, but just a heads up.
Reluctant to stop, he gave in to the need to kiss her again and then eased his hand down and fixed her shirt.
Holding her and having a chance with her was more thrilling than when he'd held the Cup.
He was determined to convince her before it was time for him to join a new hockey team. He'd pull out all the stops to make her see that he wouldn't ever let her down.
4
The sweet notes and soft strains of an acoustic guitar flowed through the coffee shop. Arielle wiped down empty tables while Ben and one of his college-aged hires took care of the last of the lunch crowd. Weekdays weren't as busy as the weekend, but Mondays at Jolt were always packed, and she hadn't had a moment to think about how to tell Ben that she and Rod were sort of dating. Rod was supposed to stop by with the hockey equipment for Jacob, and he thought that both of them tell
ing Ben together was the best option.
As a lull finally allowed her time for her first break of the day, she couldn't think about anything else. Ben was pretty easy-going, and likely wouldn't care, but he'd been more protective since the whole debacle with Matt, so maybe he wouldn't be enthusiastic.
At the table to her left, Jacob colored with the markers she'd given him that morning, his half-eaten peanut butter and jelly sandwich abandoned for artistic inspiration.
She sat beside him and studied the misshapen stick figures and coffee cups not drawn to scale. "Sign that one for me, and I'll put it in my classroom."
"Okay, but I can only print." Jacob labored over the letters in his name. Then he pushed the paper toward her and glanced to her right. His mouth dropped open and he jumped from the table and ran toward the door. "Uncle Rod."
Arielle turned, and her pulse thudded.
Rod set the shopping bags on the floor and picked him up. "How you doing, buddy?"
"Good. I can spell cappuccino and espresso. And Aunt Ari got me new markers. And I start kindergarten soon." Jacob wriggled down and ran back to his seat.
Ben grabbed Rod in a half-hug, half-back slap. "Hey, man. Good to see you."
"Been too long. The place looks great." Rod grinned and stepped back. His gaze traveled the shop until it landed on her.
She walked toward him as calmly as she could while butterflies danced in her stomach and awareness skittered up her spine.
Before she could open her mouth and say anything to her brother, Rod bent to kiss her. Firm lips settled over hers and sent her heartbeat soaring.
Ben cleared his throat. "Um, guys? Something you want to tell me?"
Rod drew back and slipped his arm around her shoulder. "We just started seeing each other."
"No kidding." Brows raised, Ben glanced from her to Rod and back again, his expression as serious as Arielle had ever seen it. "If either of you hurts the other, I won't be happy. So, don't fuck up." Then he smiled, and the dark look faded. "It's about time Ari dated a good guy."
Leaning into Rod's side, she raised her hand. "I'm standing right here."
"Yeah, I know." Ben tapped her shoulder. "You've been in an odd mood these last couple days. Now I know why."
"You're okay with this?" She wanted him to be. Ben had been amazing, letting her move in when she'd needed a place to stay, and giving her a shoulder to cry on. He hadn't been Matt's biggest fan. At all. Even early on. But he loved Rod like a brother, depended on their friendship, and if that got screwed up, she'd feel awful.
"Like I said, just don't hurt each other. Heads will roll if that happens." He pinned them both with the no-nonsense stare he reserved for when Jacob got out of control, then gestured to the front counter. "Rod, what can I get you?"
Rod made a show of studying the chalkboard menu. Like there was any question about what he'd order. "I'll have the Fraser Freeze."
No surprise there. The iced coffee with two shots of espresso, named for Rod, complete with a wooden stirrer shaped like a hockey stick, was the first signature drink Ben had created.
Rod brought the bags over to Jacob's table. "Aunt Ari and I picked up some things for you."
He pulled out the goalie stick, then the mask, then the pads and gloves and skates, and then the Bedlam jersey with JACOB stitched on the back.
Jacob's eyes grew wider and wider. "Dad, look."
Ben placed Rod's drink on the opposite side of the table. He shook his head at Rod. "Dude, I appreciate it, but that's too much."
"He needed equipment."
"But if he hates playing—"
"Dad, I won't. I wanna be a hockey player." Jacob hugged the mask to his chest. "I'm gonna draw a coffee cup on this, just like Uncle Rod has on his."
Arielle smiled at that, and Rod's grin at Jacob's words stretched her smile even wider.
He picked up the brown marker, but Rod's hand closed over his hand. "I don't think markers will work, buddy. If you want, I can take it to the place that put the cup on mine."
"No." Ben shook his head. "That's too much. He's five. He doesn't need a fancy design company painting his mask."
"I can do it." Arielle ruffled Jacob's hair to stop his pout and then held out her hands for the mask, mapping the project and how the finished picture would look. "I have paints at home that will work."
She'd done all of the paintings that lined the coffee shop's walls, plus the mural on the outside wall, along with the logo and marketing materials. A small coffee cup on a kid's mask would be easy.
Rod's fingers brushed the back of her hand. "If I'd known that was an option, I would've had you do mine."
Ben blew out a breath and he raked his hand through his hair. "It's going to take some time to get used to seeing you guys like this."
"Better get used to it." Rod winked at Arielle.
"I will. It's a good thing. Just, man… Don't ever do anything that'll make me have to change the menu and tell customers the Frazer Freeze is no longer available." The edge came back into Ben's voice, and he stared at Rod, clouds forming in his brown eyes.
"Threatening a man with his own signature drink?" Rod's words were full of humor, but his gaze was direct. "Don't worry. I'll never intentionally hurt Arielle."
Her throat thickened at the way Ben stood up for her and the passion in Rod's gaze as he made his promise. Clearing her throat, she stood and waved her arms. "Again, I'm right here."
Both men looked at her, and then Ben's posture and features relaxed again. He glanced at Rod's half-empty cup. "Let me get you a refill."
He walked behind the counter and called out for Jacob to finish his sandwich.
Rod slipped his arm around her waist. "See, that went fine."
He kissed her temple and then bent and helped Jacob try on his skates and goalie pads.
Arielle smiled down at the picture they made. Being in a relationship with Rod had the potential to hurt more than just her if things went south. Her relationship with Kelsey and his relationships with Ben and Jacob would also be affected, and possibly ruined. She wasn't naive enough to believe they'd come through unscathed.
She rubbed her arms against the goosebumps that rose on her skin. Being with Rod felt so right. Hopefully, she wasn't making the biggest mistake of her life.
Rod jogged down the hall and snatched his ringing cell phone from the bed. Reports of Colorado's goalie breaking his arm and leg in a motorcycle crash meant their team was on the hunt for a quick replacement. It was a shame about the other goalie's accident, but he couldn't do anything about that. In any case, he'd be glad to fill in. Hopefully, his agent was calling with good news. "Yo, Ernie."
"Rod, how are you?" Ernie's voice was calm. Too calm.
Not good.
"I'm anxious to hear the news. So, am I heading to the Rocky Mountains?"
"They went with Sean Hightower."
"Hightower? Seriously?" Rod sat down hard and picked at the corner of his pillow. "There aren't many teams left, Ern. I really thought I'd have something by now."
Ernie's sigh carried loud through the speaker. "Look… Teams are hesitant to sign you. You had a lot of good guys around you on the Rage, including some of the best defensemen in the league. You've never had to carry a team yourself. And some think you're asking too much money because you were a part of a Cup-winning team."
"I've been busting my ass all summer. Damn it, I'm a good goalie. I wouldn't be asking for a shot if I didn't think I deserved it. What about the National Cup tournament?"
"Again, you were surrounded by great players. And, one of your performances wasn't stellar."
"Yeah, one. Only one. I had food poisoning. But I know. No excuses." One bad game was going to keep him locked out of a new chance?
Goddamn it.
He pushed off the bed and paced the room. "So, basically, they think I'm just a bunch of hype. No substance."
Shit. This sucked so bad.
"We know you're worthy of a starting job. Hang in there. I'm s
till making some calls. I'll be in touch."
"Thanks." He ended the call and tossed the phone on the bed. The hollowness in his gut hurt. No one was willing to give him a chance? The idea of going back to the Rage didn't make him feel any better. As much as he loved the city and his teammates, he was tired of riding the bench.
He walked over to the trophies lining his wall. Maybe he hadn't ever had to carry an entire team. Throughout his career, he'd been blessed to play with amazing athletes. But damn it, he was part of that success too. Having great defensemen aside, he'd still been needed to stop the fucking puck from going into the fucking net. And he'd done that job damn well.
Desperate to escape his own thoughts and needing to vent, he wandered through the house looking for Dylan. He found him in the garage, loading hockey equipment into his car. "Hey. Where are you off to?"
Dylan shut the car door and smiled. "I'm getting together at the practice facility to skate with some of the guys. What's wrong? You look like someone just snapped your favorite hockey stick."
"I heard from Ernie. There isn't as much interest in me as we'd thought there would be." He rearranged random objects on the utility shelf as he relayed his conversation with Ernie. Anger and frustration and embarrassment and desperate hopelessness swarmed in him like a mass of hornets.
"Shit. I'm sorry." Dylan crossed to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hang in there. You're supposed to be on top of the world with your day with the Cup almost here. Put this out of your mind for now and just enjoy."
Easy for Dylan to say. He was the first-line center for his team and had tons of ice time and tons of opportunities to contribute to his team. Rod took a step back toward the door to the house. "Yeah. Well, I won't hold you up any longer. Have fun."
"Why don't you come?"
"Really?" Nothing sounded better that getting on the ice with Dylan. They hadn't done that together in far too long. His mood inched toward improving. "Are you sure the guys won't mind?"
"It'll just be Kreider, Celek, and Forsberg today. Oh, and Coach LeClair. We figured having one member of the coaching staff was a smart idea. Anyway, come. We could use a good goalie."
