by Avery Flynn
“It isn’t that simple. The whole city has expectations.” Kurt knew. Their expectations were a fucking ten-ton rock digging right into the center of his head. “They expect me to stay. They expect me to lead the Rage to another winning season. They expect me to do it for them, just like I did it for Jasper.”
She laced her fingers through his from underneath. Squeezed hard enough to get his attention. “Oh, Kurt. You’ve got such a big heart. But you can’t compare making some exuberant fans happy to fulfilling the dying wish of your baby brother.”
Guess he had to connect the dots for her. “It’s because of Jasper that I owe it to them to stay. Their support helped me through the worst year of my life. I owe it to them to put my own dreams on hold.”
“Maybe you don’t have to…” Her voice trailed off.
“What do you mean?”
“Give me a couple of days. Then ask me again.” Lisette trailed her finger around the rim of her glass. “I understand having to put your dreams on hold. I think I have to go back to death duty.” At his undoubtedly blank look, she added, “Hospice care.”
No. She’d given up everything—her job, her security, the literal clothes off her back—to get away from that. Kurt was stunned. “Why?”
“I only planned to make my savings last through the recertification in a different specialty. Now that I can’t find a new job anywhere, I don’t have a choice. I need a paycheck. And the hospice program promised they’d hire me back in a heartbeat if I ever wanted to return.”
Just when he’d thought it wasn’t possible to feel any worse about the way he’d kiboshed her job prospect with the Rage—she dropped this fucking sledgehammer on him. With her talent and personality and dedication? Lisette should have places lining up to hire her.
Fuck. He couldn’t let this happen. Kurt shoved back from the bar. “Will you give me just a minute?” He patted his pocket as though his phone was vibrating. “One call, and then I’ll turn it off for the rest of the night.”
“Of course. Your public needs you,” she teased. “You’re too big to be stuck with just little ol’ me.”
Not even close to true. There was nothing he’d like better.
Hurrying into the hotel’s hallway, Kurt hit speed dial for his new coach. Didn’t matter the time of night. When it was important, he was always there for his players. And this was important.
“Courage here,” the coach barked into the phone.
“Coach, it’s Kurt Lundquist.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Remember that favor you did me?”
“You mean convincing Coach Thibodeault to hire your sorry ass away from those pussies out in San Francisco?”
“Turns out my moving was a favor to you. Seeing as how I ended up packing the Cup in my luggage,” he said as a quick and dirty reminder of his worth to the Rage.
“Right. Like nine other guys didn’t skate a single second with you on that championship ice. What the hell favor?”
“Not hiring someone. To be the physical therapy nurse on staff for the team.”
“Lundquist, that decision is so far down my priority list its neck and neck with cleaning out my belly button lint. How the hell is that the reason you’re calling me at beer o’clock?”
Yeah, their new coach had a hair-trigger temper that he never minded aiming at anyone within earshot. “I need you to hire her after all.”
“Who?”
“Lisette Broussard. Interfering with her job was a selfish, dick move on my part. I need you to give it to her.”
“Can’t.”
Kurt banged his fist against the brocade wallpaper. “Coach, come on. She’s more than qualified. She’s terrific.”
“Look, the New Orleans Cajun Rage isn’t all victory parades and drills. It’s a business. I did you a favor. Once. That’s it. It’s bad business to flip-flop just because you want to score off the ice.”
“It isn’t like that,” he protested.
“Really? Guess what? I don’t give a shit what it is to you. Because it’s not my problem.”
The connection clicked off before Kurt could launch into begging. Negotiating. Whatever worked.
He couldn’t leave Lisette alone any longer.
He couldn’t let her go back to hospice care.
He couldn’t let her know he was behind her immediate money problem.
And last but sure as hell not least, he couldn’t march back out there and screw her until she screamed his name at the top of her lungs.
Problems? Kurt had ’em coming and going.
6
“Can I lick the bowl?” Kurt wheedled adorably.
The mixing bowl with its swirled remnants of cream cheese frosting was not at all what Lisette wanted him to lick. If she had a choice.
Which Lisette kind of thought she did. Ever since reconnecting outside the Rajuns’ locker room, there’d been an odd push-pull going on between them. Definite heat and attraction on both sides. But it felt like either she or Kurt would pull back just when things started to heat up.
Not anymore. Not since their date Saturday night. Because there was no question it hadn’t been anything less than a one hundred percent, genuine date. After the dose of classic New Orleans with their drinks at the Carousel Bar, they’d gone on to dinner at SoBou. It was the opposite end of the spectrum from classic, and Lisette loved it. She’d been worried that the innovative food, like the yellowfin tuna cones topped with avocado basil ice cream, would be a disappointment to Kurt. Those broad shoulders and undeniable masculinity gave her the impression he was a meat-and-potatoes guy.
Which had been a great reminder, actually, to not assume anything about him. In fact, when Lisette brought up the possibility, he laughed and made her forfeit a sweet potato beignet as punishment. Right after reminding her that his first team, before the Snakes and the Rage, was the San Francisco Quakes. Living there had opened him up to a world of fusion flavors. Nothing scared him if it came on a plate. Which also hit home that there was a lot more to Kurt Lundquist than just strong thighs and wicked control of a puck. His career didn’t define him. Or at least, it didn’t have to, which was exactly the point of today’s visit.
Right after she stopped thinking about Kurt doing all the licking.
With a gentle elbow to his ribs, Lisette stated, “The bowl is off-limits. I made this pineapple carrot cake for Noelle. Because she had a craving. And nobody in their right mind gets between a pregnant woman and her craving. So she can have as much of the cake as she wants, including the beaters and the bowls to lick.”
Hands behind his back, Kurt hinged forward from his waist to hover his face right above the rim. “That frosting will harden soon.”
“Not before she gets home.” Oh, but he’d almost tempted her to give in. Because Kurt Lundquist excelled at tempting Lisette into throwing common sense out the window. “Which will be in less than half an hour. So our window of time to talk is limited.”
That straightened him faster than a jack-in-the-box. “You really called me over here to talk?”
With a peek out the dotted Swiss curtains over the sink at the rapidly heating sunshine, Lisette asked, “At ten o’clock on a Tuesday morning? What other reason would there be?”
Kurt widened his stance. Then he pulled her back against him and crossed his arms around her waist. Nibbling along the curve of her ear, he said, “Do I need to spell it out for you?”
Maybe. He’d certainly been good at spelling things out in a series of hot and very descriptive texts last night. And the night before. The man had a certain…way with bedtime stories. For a second—okay, five seconds—Lisette relaxed against the wall of muscles holding her up. But the cake on the counter reminded her they were facing a ticking clock. “No licking and no spelling. Clearly, kitchens rile you up more than I ever expected. Let’s head out to the living room.”
“Living rooms are for serious talk. I don’t like where this is headed. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing
,” she swiftly reassured him with a pat to his muscular forearm. “Hopefully, everything is right. Or at least, it’s going to be.”
“Hang on. If you’re not mad at me, or worried about something”—Kurt waited until Lisette shook her head no—“can I go first?”
For someone who hadn’t expected they were going to actually talk, he caught her off guard with the request. “Um, sure.”
“Sit down.”
Now Lisette didn’t like where this was headed. The past three days had been pretty darn perfect. First the amazing date on Saturday, a lunch that stretched into a French Quarter bar crawl and dinner on Sunday, and lots of kissing and touching and closeness that thrilled her to her toes in between party planning and errands yesterday.
They’d clicked. Hit a groove. Teased and talked and listened and laughed. Laughed like she’d never imagined that Kurt would. Especially with her. If dating was a class, they’d both be getting an A right now. So what on earth could he need to tell her?
“I’ve got some good news.”
Instead of easing onto the couch, Lisette plopped onto it, her jaw agape. “Not cool. You’re stealing my thunder. Literally stealing the words right from my mouth.”
“Not a problem. Or a problem like…having too much carrot cake for one person to possibly eat.”
Oh, the adorable factor was off the charts with him today. “Nice try.”
Kurt paced the carpeted length of the room. Then he abruptly dropped into the wing chair opposite her and braced his forearms on his thighs. “Look, I…uh…I got you something.”
“A present? For me?” Relief flooded through Lisette that he wasn’t dropping some sort of horrible secret on her. Or politely dumping her for, you know, reminding him of the most painful months of his life. Guilt, though, quickly followed. Because he was already paying her a fairly exorbitant wage. Which was weird enough now that they were, well, dating. “Kurt, you already splurged on that whole, beautiful outfit. You didn’t need to do anything else.”
“Hell, yes, I did.”
The vociferousness of his reply surprised Lisette. She canted forward to look into the hallway. There wasn’t a visible box by the front door. “Where is it?”
“San Francisco.”
“You lost me.”
He popped back up and started pacing. “I got you a job. With my old team.”
This wasn’t a present. It was a miracle. “You what?”
“I felt horrible that you couldn’t find a new job. That you might have to go back to your old one. So I called up the Quakes and wrangled you a spot on their medical team.”
Lisette didn’t know what to process first. Gratitude? Confusion? Frustration? Befuddled amazement? Her indecision must’ve dragged on too obviously long. Kurt dropped to his knees in front of her.
“Say something.” With a shake of his head, Kurt grabbed her hand. “Shit. How did I screw this up? I thought you’d be happy. Don’t you want it?”
Of course she wanted a job. But…then the true implication of his remarkable offer hit her.
“No.” The word, the honest truth, popped out before she could stop it. “Oh my gosh, that sounds horrible. Ungrateful.”
“But is it true?”
In a near whisper, she said, “Yes.”
Kurt rocked back to sit on his heels. “So you want a job. You need a job. But you won’t take this one? The pay’s decent, I promise. And San Francisco is a great place to live. I’ll bet there’s even a bartender out there who could stir up a Sazerac for you.”
Flustered by the magnitude of what he’d done for her—and by how confused he looked, still at her feet—Lisette rose. Pacing the same path he had didn’t hold any appeal, so she crossed to the built-in bookcase. Then she trailed her fingers along the silver-edged frame holding a photo of her and Noelle the day she graduated from nursing school.
“It isn’t about the place,” she said softly. “It’s about the people. My people, to be precise. My sister’s about to be married. And not too long after that, her first child will be born.”
“They’re not slave drivers, for God’s sake. They’ll let you take off for the wedding and to visit after the kid’s born.”
“I believe you. But that’s not enough for me. I want to be a great aunt. Not a birthday phone call and Christmas card type of aunt. I want to be involved in this little one’s life. Not visit for milestones. To me, every day I get to see him laugh and grow will be a milestone. And I don’t want to miss a single moment.” Although Lisette didn’t want to poke at a barely scabbed-over wound, she had to tell him the truth. The magnitude of his gift demanded it. “All my time spent skirting the edges of death taught me that. To grab on to love and life with both hands, all the time.”
Scrubbing his hand through his hair, Kurt said, “Let me get this straight. You’re turning down a prestigious job with more than decent pay and benefits in a kick-ass city…to be with your family?”
Lisette could only nod. Because she knew it wasn’t necessarily the smart answer, or the strategic answer. Not the career-oriented forward-thinking answer. It wouldn’t solve her needing-a-rent-deposit problem, or give her health insurance. In fact, the more she added up all the reasons she should leap at this job, the singular reason why she wouldn’t seemed pretty weak. She didn’t blame Kurt for not understanding. Or even for being a little pissed at her.
The rustle of his shorts gave her the only indication he’d moved before a big hand enveloped hers, lifting it from the picture frame. Kurt brought it to his lips and kissed each of her knuckles before sandwiching his other hand on top of it.
“You’re amazing.”
Totally not the response she’d expected. But the sincerity was easy to read in his pale blue eyes, in his touch, in the husky depth of his voice. Still, Lisette had to make sure. “You’re not mad?”
“Why would I be mad?”
Because a lot of guys would be. Mad, or at least hurt that she hadn’t bent over backward to jump all over the gift. However, not wanting to lump him into such a generalized pool, Lisette chose her words carefully. “Because you called in a favor. You went out of your way to do something remarkable for me, and I’m turning it down flat. I’m ever so grateful and appreciative and touched beyond belief. But I can’t accept it.”
A shrug appeared to be all the credence he’d give her statement. “It’s not the right fit for you.”
“Like a pointy-toed shoe,” she murmured. “They look so fashionable, but even the right size pinches my toes and makes blisters.”
Kurt shifted from foot to foot with a grimace. “Since I’m a guy—a professional athlete, no less—I wouldn’t have gone with the shoe analogy.”
Aaaand there he went being all adorable again. Lisette stuck out her tongue. “Too bad. It works.”
“Well, it’s your present to describe however you want—and to toss back at me.” Kurt laid a hand on his chest and let his head fall back with a sigh, seemingly despondent at her refusal.
But she knew he was just teasing now. What Lisette didn’t know was how she’d lucked out finding a man who understood why she turned the job down. Maybe missing Jasper helped him to comprehend how strongly she felt about staying involved, at being present as her sister’s family grew.
Going up on tiptoe, she kissed the rough brown stubble on his cheek. “Thank you. Truly. I’m sorry I can’t say yes.”
“You already quit once because it was the wrong fit. I don’t want you to have to do it again. I’m just sorry that I hadn’t learned enough about you yet to realize how close you are with Noelle. I didn’t mean to put you in an awkward position.”
Biting back a giggle, she said, “Kurt, you can’t apologize. I’m apologizing.”
“For being brave and strong and knowing exactly what you want? Hell, no. I can’t let you apologize for that.”
“Well, I can’t let you apologize for giving me the best present ever.”
“Guess we’re at a standoff.” Kurt pulled her flush a
gainst his chest. “Wonder what we’ll have to do to break the deadlock.”
“Actually, I have something for you. It’s handy that you stopped by, because I was going to ask you to come over in about an hour anyway.”
His eyebrows waggled. “I thought you said we had to stay dressed because your sister’s coming home to get sick from eating an entire cake all by herself.”
Lisette didn’t know if she should accuse him of beating a dead horse or having a one-track mind. Either way, he’d gotten to her. As soon as Noelle did arrive, and have her first piece, she’d ask if Kurt could have a slice. Because if she was in charge of his smile practice, carrot cake was evidently just the thing to kick his smiling into high gear.
“We’re staying dressed and fully vertical.”
Heat pulsed and flared behind his eyes. “Technically, that’s just a challenge, not an absolute shutdown of the prospect of sex.”
In the space of a single lurching heartbeat, Kurt morphed from being sweet, cute, thoughtful guy into a molten sex god. It reminded Lisette that long before she’d become aware of his true heart and the ever-increasing occurrences of his wry wit, she’d crushed all over his muscles and handsome face. She’d liked him when she was nursing Jasper. She’d grown to like him a heck of a lot more over the past week. But she’d wanted him for much longer. Craved him. Fantasized—more than a little—about what it would be like to writhe around naked under him.
Now he’d made her think about it all over again. Lisette wouldn’t call him cocky about his talent in the bedroom. More that he was matter-of-fact. Like there was no doubt in his mind that he could rock her world upside down and sideways.
She couldn’t wait for him to be proven right.
Lisette wriggled backward out of his embrace. Because she wouldn’t be able to focus on anything but her out-of-control desire as long as they were touching. “Look, I did some digging. Well, I had my sister do some digging. I don’t think I told you, but she’s a college counselor at St. Mary’s High School. Noelle knows how to work the system. How to get a higher education regardless of financial or time issues. If there’s a student who wants to learn, she finds a way to help them do just that.”
