“No.” She answered that too quickly.
“No?” It sounded to me like Crystal was as afraid to watch them as Zoe, but she loved her time with Aiden and Gary, so…
Vlad didn’t think they were much different than Zoe, either. “I think they all have nightmares. That’s why the three of them wind up sleeping under the table in their ‘fort’. Who do they think they’re kidding? They don’t stay to comfort Crystal—Crystal is the adult there.”
We all got a laugh out of that, including Crystal. “They do squeeze my hands at the really scary parts.” Her cheeky smile made us all laugh again. “Boys aren’t as brave as they pretend to be.”
“Speaking of boys, I’m gonna run. I want to grab a hot dog and a beer before I go out and wait for Cage.”
“Ah, so that’s why you insisted on driving yourself.” Zoe nudged me with her elbow and wiggled her eyebrows. “Caving in on the party boy, are you?”
I pushed her back with a snort. “No.” Maybe not my most convincing argument. “We’re just friends.”
“Sure. Well, you kids have fun.”
I watched the Bejsiuks ride down the escalator as I stood in line for my food, thinking once again how nice the three of them looked together.
By the time I got to the parking lot, I was sporting a nice yellow mustard stain on one breast and a wet spot on the other from my spilled beer. Awesome.
***
Cage
Karen was standing at the fence line with the fans who were waiting for autographs after the game when I stepped out of the arena. Her mere presence made my heart lighter, and I couldn’t help the satisfaction I felt at seeing her there waiting for me.
I signed autographs and accepted congratulations for the win while Karen waited off to the side.
“I’ll be right with you, Karen.” She casually strolled around the fringes of the crowd, smiling at me whenever I caught her eye.
When the crowd finally dwindled down to the diehards who waited for me to be mostly done so that they could grab a few minutes of conversation, Karen approached.
I couldn’t help but notice the marks on her shirt. And where they had fallen. “Have some trouble tonight there, darlin’?”
She waved her hand in the air in dismissal of her messed up shirt. “Missed my mouth a couple of times. But you didn’t miss anything tonight, did you? You were awesome, Dalton.”
Signing my last autograph, I patiently said goodbye to the hangers on. “Thanks. It was a tough game.”
“I could see that. You didn’t have a whole lot of help out there, but that’s the way it goes sometimes. Price of being a goalie, I guess.”
“Being hung out to dry? Yeah. Honestly, it’s hard not to get pissed off when I feel like I’m the only one out there playing. But I’ve learned not to say anything out loud. Those kinds of proclamations don’t go over so well in the locker room. And really—more often than not, winning or losing is a collective effort.”
“Good for you; and I agree. Hockey’s a team sport. I get that. But tonight it was all you. Did you get fined for your little show?” She asked her question with a smile, so I knew she wasn’t berating me.
“Yeah. It’s only a hundred bucks, but I’ll donate another hundred to the animal orphanage. I always pay double. I figure it’ll help my Karma.”
The metal barricade still separated us as we spoke, and I wished it was gone. I watched her digging for her keys, and thought about asking her back to my place for a while.
“Well, I’m going to get going. I just wanted to tell you I enjoyed the game and to thank you again for the tickets.”
“Thanks for coming. It meant a lot to me, having an actual friend in the stands.”
“What do you mean ‘an actual friend’?”
I found the thought highly dissatisfying that she would pity me. That ‘actual friend’ comment just sort of slipped out. “Nothing. I just don’t have a lot of friends here. I keep to myself, that’s all I meant. No big deal.” Even I could tell that my smile wasn’t genuine. Time to get going, and end the conversation. “I’ll see you later, Karen.”
“Okay. See you later, Dalton.” She turned and walked away from me, not looking back once. I watched her until she was out of my line of sight and then took off.
Chapter 6
Karen
It was after ten o’clock when I got home from the game. I was really glad I went. Aside from a couple of local junior games at home now and then, I hadn’t seen too much hockey lately. I planned to absorb all the hockey I could while on my sabbatical. I was Canadian, after all.
Cage’s comment about not having friends bothered me. I knew my brother didn’t like him—he made it pretty obvious—but I didn’t quite understand why. Yes, he was ballsy. Yes, he spoke without thinking sometimes, but he deserved a break. After all, Cage was the one who beat the crap out of Lacey’s ex for laying a hand on her. Cage was the one who profusely apologized for making fun of Vlad after he found out that he was, in fact, injured. And most importantly, in my book, Cage was the one who was content simply sleeping with me on the couch when I drove him home after Jody’s nose-breaking incident. He was the only person outside of my mother and Jody who I’d ever told about Freddy putting me in the hospital. And what did he do? He snuggled me close and told me how strong I was for surviving that abusive relationship as well as I had. He had a hard-on the size of the Washington Monument, but he didn’t act on it. And when I felt a little too snug in his embrace, he gave me the room I needed. No pressure.
We bonded that night, Dalton and I. I may have even lost a little piece of my heart to him then. There was a connection there that I was pretty sure not many have experienced with him. I couldn’t quite explain it, but I felt it, and I think he did, too.
It all started on the drive to Cage’s place after leaving Vlad and Zoe’s. I liked the way my body slid into the driver’s seat of his car. I’d never been in a BMW before. It was pretty sweet. I also liked the stash of KitKats in the door pocket. That was the night I first learned of his chocolate obsession.
Cage’s eyes were glued to my hands as I ran them around the steering wheel, feeling the supple leather. “Looks like you’re good with your hands. Plenty of other things for you to feel over here.”
I made the mistake of glancing at him before I could stop myself. There he was in all his splendor. His long legs encased in faded blue jeans, knees spread wide in a typical male pose. His right arm rested on the door while his left lay in his lap suggestively. The movement was so slight, I wasn’t sure if I truly saw him brush his fingers over the fly of his jeans, but then he did it again, chuckling as he watched me watching him.
I cleared my throat and finally looked away. “I think I’ll just drive you home. How’s that?”
“Disappointing, to be honest. I’d much rather you run your hands over me like you’re running them over that leather.” He reached over and ran a finger down my cheek. “That blush looks good on you.”
“I’m not blushing. I’m just hot.”
“You are that, but you’re blushing, too.”
I knew he was right—the blushing part, not the hot part—but I wasn’t going to admit it. Instead of answering him, I started the car and waited for him to tell me which way to go. He pointed to the left and off we went.
Motley Crue was playing quietly on the radio. I loved classic rock—had since I was old enough to pick my own music—and it seemed like a good distraction, so I reached over and turned it up loud, bellowing out the words to Rattlesnake Shake. In hindsight, it may not have been the best song to play in Cage’s presence.
About a minute into the song, he reached over, quick as a fox, and turned it all the way down just as I was belting out snake wants to spit. He was kind enough to finish the lyrics for me.
“Call 9-7-6 and let my hand do the rest,”
I could feel him staring at me. The car became utterly silent. What could I say? Anything I said would be interpreted as either sexy or prudish
. I decided to stay quiet.
“And there’s that gorgeous blush again.”
I kept my eyes on the road, but let out a laugh. He never quit. “Well, it is a good song. I’ve loved Crue ever since I first heard Smoking in the Boys Room.”
“Crue embodies hot women, sex, and party time. What’s not to like?”
I couldn’t disagree with him. I did like all of that about them. Motley Crue was my guilty pleasure. Being one of their women swinging from a cage over the stage was a past dream of mine. Hell, I’d probably do it now if given the chance. But was I going to tell Cage that? Hell no.
“I’m not going to comment on all of that, but I do like to listen to them.”
Cage didn’t say anything else. He just put his hand out and pointed to the left again. “That’s my place.”
I pulled up under the overhang in front of his garage. The houses at the beach had the garage in the back since there was no front yard to speak of. It was all beach sand.
He wanted me to come in. I knew what he wanted me to come in for. I wasn’t stupid by any stretch of the imagination.
“Thanks for driving me home, Karen.”
“You’re welcome.” I waited for him to get out of the car, even as he simply sat there smiling at me. “Um, I’ll bring your car back in the morning, okay? Jody can drive me over to drop it off. And again, I’m really, really sorry.”
He gave me a smile that I was sure had melted many panties in the past, but mine were staying firmly in place. “Stop apologizing. It’s done. Now come on. Come inside. I won’t bite …unless you ask me to.”
I tended to roll my eyes a lot, and I’d been trying to stop, but that comment warranted some major eye rolling. I swear I rolled them so hard I thought they’d get stuck. “Lame, Dalton. Lame.” He did make me laugh, though.
“You’d be surprised how often that works.”
“I’m sure it does, but I’m not a puck bunny trying to pick up the hottest player.”
Maybe I could have chosen better words. I seemed to say the exact wrong things around him. Give Cage an inch …
“I knew you thought I was hot.” He toyed with my fingers, but pulled his hand back after a couple of seconds. “Look. I like you. A lot. I’m not asking you to come in and have sex with me—although I’m willing to leave that on the table.” He smiled, but then looked down into the darkened interior of the car, and kept his gaze down as he continued. “Tonight was different, you know? There I was, being an ass as only I know how to be, and you defended me. It was nice. I’m just not ready for you to leave yet.”
And that was when I made the decision to be Cage’s friend. I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. My intuition said he was worth it. He was worth the effort of making him my friend. “Okay, Dalton. I’ll come in for a while, but I don’t want any misunderstanding between us. I’m not looking for any kind of relationship other than friendship. Can you accept that?”
The emotion on his face was precious. He gave me kind of a shy, half smile as he turned his gaze back to me. I was sure it wasn’t a look he shared with his peers. He simply looked joyful. This badass, womanizing, KitKat-packing hockey player wanted a friend. “Yes. I would like to be your friend, Karen.”
We got out of his car and walked up several steps to the wide front porch that faced the ocean. I turned around at the top of the stairs and closed my eyes, simply enjoying the sound of the surf.
“It’s beautiful out here, isn’t it? I played in Nashville for a couple of years when I started out in the NHL. Even though Nashville has some really cool places to go, I wanted to be near the ocean. When I got the news that I was being signed with the Scorpions, one of my first thoughts was beachfront property. I didn’t care how small the place was as long as I was on the beach and had a place to sit and enjoy it. You’ll soon see I got exactly what I wanted.”
He opened the front door, and I almost gasped out loud at how tiny it was. There was one large room that housed a kitchenette, living room and an eating area. The only other rooms in the house were his bedroom, a tiny spare room that wasn’t much larger than a walk-in closet, and a small, but adequate bathroom. As small as it was, everything had been updated so it was actually quite cozy. Since Cage undoubtedly wasn’t the type to room with one of his teammates, I could understand why he had chosen this homey beach cottage for himself.
“It’s really nice, Dalton. It’s small, but I think it suits you.” I walked over to the slim mantle under the TV and looked at pictures of what I presumed to be his family. Picking up a picture of two boys suited up in hockey gear, I looked at him over my shoulder. “Who’s this?”
He walked up so close behind me, I could feel his breath ruffling my hair. His hand brushed mine as he pointed to each boy. “This is my brother Jaden, and that’s his best buddy, Ethan. They’re inseparable. Ethan even comes with Jaden when he visits me in the summer. I think I’ve known him almost as long as I’ve known my little brother.”
I could tell by the softness of his voice, the raw emotion in it, how much those boys meant to him. “You really enjoy having them visit, don’t you?” I was still trying to put all of the pieces together to understand why Cage was such a loner. One thing I did notice was that he was night and day when he was with me compared to being around the guys.
“I do. It’s good for them to have a place to come to in the summer for a while. And they’re good for me, too. Believe it or not, scary as it sounds, I’m Jaden’s male role model. And Ethan doesn’t have a very good home life. His father drinks too much, and as hard as his mother tries, she can’t make up for that.”
“You really are a good guy, aren’t you?” I would have loved to know why he showed everyone else his worst side. What was he afraid of?
“No. Make no mistake. I’m not a good guy. Just ask around.”
Why was he okay with being painted as an asshole when he was obviously anything but? I only knew one way to find out—ask him. “Why do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Act so differently around the guys. I’ve hardly been around you, but I can already see how much you love to push everyone’s buttons. Why?”
Cage walked over to the fridge and pulled out two beers. He twisted the caps off and handed me one on his way over to the sofa. His legs spread wide when he sat down with a small thud and gingerly laid his head back so he was staring up at the ceiling. I could tell by the whimper that escaped his lips, his head was still hurting.
“People see what they want to see.”
There were two ways to look at that. “People see what you show them.”
He patted the seat next to him and I sat, taking a sip from my beer. “I guess you could be right. I think it started when my father left. Just before Jaden was born, the old man took off. Typical cliché story. We lived in a run-down house. Mom had trouble making ends meet, et cetera, et cetera. But at eleven years old, I felt like I had to be the man of the house. I suppose I grew a pretty big attitude trying to be tough, you know?”
“Well, why did you need to be tough? Were you bullied or made fun of?” I couldn’t imagine it. Cage was big, gorgeous, and looked like nothing bothered him. It seemed to me like he’d be the one everyone wanted in their group—or he’d be the bully.
“I wouldn’t call it being bullied, exactly. No one ever beat me up or anything. They wouldn’t have dared. I bloomed early and worked out a lot, but hockey was my life. Always has been, always will be, I think. Mom didn’t have any extra money for new equipment or good skates, so I used whatever equipment I could buy with money I got from working around the neighborhood. I’d fix things for some of my classmates’ parents and stuff. You know, clean their pools, rake leaves, mow lawns, fix cars. You can imagine how that went over. I’m sure you know the story. The poor kid working for the not-so-poor kids. Since I was a decent looking kid, the bored housewives were always extra nice to me, and I admit, I took advantage of that. Eh, it was a long time ago.”
Maybe that e
xplained why he lived in such a modest cottage. From what I’d seen so far, the only thing Cage owned that indicated he had money was his BMW. “I’ll bet you make sure Jaden has the best equipment though, don’t you? Probably Ethan, too.” I knew I was right when Cage remained silent. “Told you.”
His eyes had been closed as we talked. He turned his head to me and just barely opened them, looking at me with a squint. “Told me what?”
“That you’re a good guy. Good guys take care of their families, and their family’s friends. You don’t have to do that. I’m sure your mother could get along just fine. She did when you lived at home, didn’t she?”
“Yeah. You know it’s funny. We didn’t have much, but we never wanted for anything either. We always had food on the table, clothes on our backs, and even went to the occasional movie or had pizza delivered on a Friday night. I never felt like money was important, I just felt like I had to make things better—easier for my mom. She was always working. So maybe I assume the worst of people before they can show their true colors and disappoint me. People leave. And they only seem to care about you as long as you can do something for them. I heard from people I hadn’t heard from in years when I made it to the NHL and my salary was public knowledge.”
I knew first-hand how hard it was to grow up in a not-so-perfect environment. That was something Cage and I actually had in common, which meant…“You know, you and Jody were almost the same age when you lost your fathers. He didn’t get that hard edge around him though.”
“You’re kidding me, right? Your brother hits first and asks questions later. No, scratch that. He never even asks questions!”
He had a point. “Yeah, but he’s not mad at the world, and he doesn’t have a problem making friends.”
Cage's Misconduct (NHL Scorpions #3) Page 5
