by Anya Nowlan
“Naw, I think we’re playing it by ear now. I think we have time,” he said with a smirk, motioning toward the shining lights of a small diner down the road, making a quick decision to get her away from the bustle of the pub and take her somewhere where they could actually talk.
“You knew there was no way out of here, didn’t you?” Kimberley asked as they fell into step, her hands tucked into her pockets, mirroring him.
“I had a hunch,” Cannon confessed, inclining his head.
The Sunrise Diner was run by Cerise, a lively, smart-mouthed woman who could hit any cowboy over the head if they misbehaved. With Austin’s Texas opening up down the road, she’d obviously had to do a lot less of that and Cannon wasn’t entirely sure if that was a good thing. She’d make a hell of a shutdown defensemen in another life, that was for sure.
He waved to Cerise as they stepped in, the diner busy, but relatively quiet. She gave him a toothy grin back, tilting her chin as Cannon showed Kimberley to a booth and set her bag down on the seat as well. He suppressed the urge to slip around the bend of the red leather seat and cuddle up next to her, going for the safer option of sitting across from her.
Cerise appeared a moment later, with two steaming cups of coffee, and an expectant look shot at Cannon.
“Usual?”
“Two. And a cherry pie,” he said, receiving a quick nod as Cerise made her way off to fetch their food.
“So you’re like a regular here?” Kimberley asked, peeling off her jacket and exposing the Grizzlies’ jersey, which made Cannon clutch his chest theatrically.
“You were rooting for the other guys? Baby, I’m hurt deeply.”
“I’m not your baby,” Kimberley said with a sigh, but there was definitely that smile again that Cannon so missed.
Damn that woman, she made him sit on pins and needles with the tiniest things. He’d missed it like nothing else and his bear was practically clawing inside of him, demanding that he fix everything he’d broken all those years ago.
But it isn’t so easy…
“Okay, point taken. Maybe one day, right?” he said with a wink, not waiting for an answer before continuing. “But yeah, we’re in here pretty often. Cerise claims we’re eating so much that she can’t keep the shipments coming in fast enough, but I don’t buy it. Did you see the crowd? Half of those guys are bigger than our enforcers are. Crazy. I wouldn’t be surprised if we get switched for some of these locals. There’s this whole family of stags who can skate circles around me.”
He shook his head, still taken with how pucked up this whole place was, sipping his coffee. Kimberley’s hands slipped around her mug as well and she brought it up to her lips with two hands like she always did, and he couldn’t hide the wide grin that appeared on his lips watching her do that.
“What?” she asked, looking a tiny bit surprised.
“The way you drink your coffee. It hasn’t changed,” he said, grinning like a fool.
“A lot of other stuff has though, Cannon,” she remarked, flicking her gaze down to her cup and taking another swig.
“Can’t argue with that,” he noted, feeling bile rise in his throat.
He’d hurt this girl badly and now he was sitting at a table with her, about to put a knife in her hands. He wasn’t entirely sure if she’d keep from shoving it in his chest. But then again, bleeding out on the floor of a diner in Idaho still might have felt better than going without her for the rest of his life, so he was willing to take his chances here.
Cerise was back fast enough with his usual: mashed potatoes, gravy, and a thick slab of beef. It was his go-to meal after every workout because of how well Cerise made it—always have to trust the predators to cook your meat, if that’s your style. He dug in, giving Kimberley an encouraging look to do the same. She gave him a questioning glance, but picked up her knife and fork with a slight sigh.
By the end of the first bite, she was looking at him and then her food like she’d just seen a vision. Cerise’s cooking could do that to a person.
“Still want to fight?” he asked, cocking a brow.
“Sure. But after we eat,” Kimberley said, giving him a glare that was only halfhearted.
By the end of the main course, Cerise had already shown up with a big cherry pie with whipped cream and two forks, clearing the plates with a knowing wink tossed in Cannon’s direction. Usually, he and Cerise would chit-chat a bit, but she was being an excellent wing-woman today and just letting Cannon dig his own grave. Or shovel his own grave, whatever.
“So, did you find a place to stay?” Cannon queried, deciding to ease into the conversation.
Not that he’d been able to look away. Kimberley was… well, radiant. She’d always been curvy but she’d really filled out over the years he hadn’t seen her, no longer an awkward girl, but now a beautiful woman. Her long blonde hair was tied back in a messy ponytail and her lips were plump with this deliciously arched Cupid ’s bow that begged to be smothered in kisses. She had a heart-shaped face and her body screamed to be held. By him. No one else.
Just the thought of her having been with others—and he knew there had to have been boyfriends because she was far too hot to have been alone—made his blood boil. Cannon found himself clutching the fork so hard he feared he might snap it in half. He relaxed his grip as she looked at his fingers flexing around the fork, a little smile on her lips.
“No,” she admitted with a sigh. “Apparently your new hometown doesn’t even have a hotel. Some locals with a big compound out of town were offering lodging to everyone who got stuck because of the storm, but their rooms are filled up.”
“Great! You’re staying with me then,” Cannon said, smelling an opportunity and giving her a winning smile.
“Oh, am I?” Kimberley asked with a cocked brow, looking at him dubiously.
“Well, unless you have an insulated tent in that bag of yours, and I suspect you don’t, I think I’m your best option of not dying in the snow. What would the Montreal Sabres do without their plucky PR rep, after all? I’m being a good Samaritan here.”
Kimberley snorted, but she smiled, shaking her head. Good. She hadn’t shoved that fork in his chest yet and he’d gotten her to smile. Not that it made up for anything, but it was a start.
Cub steps.
“Fine. Just one night. And no funny business, okay?”
“Cross my heart and hope to die,” Cannon said solemnly, raising one hand and putting the one still clinging to the fork over his heart.
Next order of business—letting Heath know he was going to have to sleep in a pile of snow and getting Kimberley back to his little cabin without her running off on him again. If he could have, he would have gone back in time to have one serious talk with his past self about not being a goddamn idiot and treating this girl like she was supposed to be treated!
Too little, too late. But maybe I can make up for it.
CHAPTER SIX
Kimberley
I can’t believe I’m going along with this jerk, Kimberley thought with some forced sullenness, trudging through the snow toward Cannon’s cabin, nestled in some picturesque woods that looked like something straight out of a magazine.
It was small, yes, but the porch light was on and it made it look like a little hideaway in all of the thick, fluffy snow. She traced after his steps, Cannon walking ahead with her pack over his shoulder, and Kimberley following him like a lost puppy. That wasn’t too far from the truth though. She always felt a little bit rattled around him.
You shouldn’t be doing this. He’s just going to screw you over again, she reminded herself, biting down on her lip. But what’s my other option? Sleep at the diner?
Kimberley shooed the idea away with a sigh as the two of them trudged up the steps and Cannon unlocked the door, ushering her in first. She held her breath as she pushed past him, willing herself not to breathe in a whiff of his masculine scent, knowing that she’d lose her head as she always did when she smelled him. Something about him always sme
lled so… manly. So right. It had floored her when she was eighteen and it still floored her now.
Stomping her feet a few times to drop off some of the snow, she stepped in, unzipping her jacket. Before she could hang it up, Cannon had taken it from her with a sheepish smile, pushing the door closed behind him. There he was again, so close, so… close. She found her breath hitching even as she pushed off the boots and forced herself to look away from him, from those brilliant blue eyes that seemed to always see everything, and the chiseled face that had only gotten more handsome with time.
The same face that was synonymous with both love and hate for her. But right now, it was lust that seemed to be winning over at the most inopportune time.
She slunk deeper into the cabin, desperate to clear her mind, which had been completely impossible even when she wasn’t around Cannon that day. Ever since she’d realized that Pucky was Cannon, she’d been a tangle of nerves and jittery responses. Nothing made sense and at the same time, everything did.
Why they’d talked so easily, why they’d clicked… why she’d felt the sexual tension even through texts! It had always been like that with Cannon. He’d been everything for her and she’d thought she’d been the same for him and then one day…
Kimberley’s hands rolled into fists just in time for Cannon to drop her heavy bag in the corner of the open-plan living room-kitchen, stalking past her close enough for their hands to brush against one another. He went to the kitchen and pulled out two glasses and a bottle of scotch, remembering her tastes all too well and apparently staying true to his own.
Kimberley watched impassively as the dark liquid was poured out, and as Cannon passed the class to her over the countertop, she picked it up, their hands touching for a fleeting moment again. It came with a hot flash, just like when he walked past her, his touch always setting her on fire. Like nothing else ever could. Kimberley took a quick swig, slightly too deep maybe, the bitter liquid going down her throat and making her grimace.
“Whoa there, don’t tell me you don’t know how to drink anymore! Aren’t they keeping you sharp up in the north?” Cannon asked, leaning on the counter with his elbows.
He’d taken off his coat and for the first time in years, Kimberley could truly look at him. Up close and personal.
Fuck. Unfair. He isn’t supposed to look so hot, she thought with a twinge of regret.
Sure, she’d seen him in magazines and on social media every now and then, when she’d broken down and checked up on what her ex was up to, but that was different. His shoulders were so wide and his chest so toned with heavy workouts and throwing people around on the ice that he looked like he might pop out of the T-shirt. His biceps bulged against the fabric as his arms flexed in the position he’d chosen and Kimberley couldn’t help but stare a little.
When her green gaze flicked up to him though, she was relieved to find out that she wasn’t the only one ogling. Kimberley smirked, putting her weight on one hip and cocking a brow.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”
“Take your clothes off and I might,” Cannon shot back with a wide smile, equal parts impossible and completely irresistible.
“Yeah, in your dreams, Pucky,” she said with a dramatic roll of her eyes, turning her back to him and walking over to the couch.
“Pucky?” he asked, laughter in his voice.
“Just something I called you when I thought you weren’t my past mistakes incarnate.”
“Aw, come on. It wasn’t all bad,” Cannon said, and there was a definite hitch of grief in his words.
So maybe she put in a bit more saunter than she would have for anyone else before she sat down. By the slightly pained way that Cannon cleared his throat behind her, she considered it a success as the big lug of a bear followed her. When he passed her as she was sitting down, she got one more good look at him. No longer the boy she remembered, but most definitely a man.
The kind of man who made people get out of his damn way when he barreled down the ice. The kind of man who made her heart beat faster in her chest by the mere thought of being around him. The kind of man that still made her blood boil, thinking back to what they’d gone through.
Kimberley gritted her teeth, her pleasant moment of thinking filthy thoughts about him broken by her own sense of rationality. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, hoping against hope that she’d somehow gotten a few bars and could call someone, anyone to get her out of Shifter Grove before she did anything stupid.
But the phone was dead as it had been before. And one look at Cannon told her that she was already doing the “something stupid” just by being alone with him.
You’re supposed to have more of a spine than this, Kimberley thought, taking another sip of the scotch and gulping it down greedily, as if there’d be any more wisdom at the bottom of the glass.
“There’s never any reception here. There’s one corner in my bedroom where you can get a few bars, if you need to make a call,” Cannon said, his eyes lingering on Kimberley with far too much cleverness to them.
“Oh, you want to show me your bedroom now?” she asked, pursing her lips.
Oh God, why am I playing along?!
“Always,” he replied, not missing a beat.
He got that glint in his eye. The one that told her that she could be on her back in a few minutes, screaming his name as he gave her the best fucking she’d ever had. She knew he could, the current one on record was with him, after all.
Just one time? For old time’s sake? I can scream at him all I want tomorrow, she thought, almost longingly, playing with the rim of her glass.
Yes, she knew it was a stupid idea. She wasn’t supposed to be the girl who shows up looking for one guy and finds the man who’d completely broken her heart instead. She wasn’t supposed to be thrilled at seeing him, but that was exactly what had happened. And worst of all, she could still feel the kiss they’d shared in that parking lot coursing through her, making her tingle all over and her breath come in tiny stutters.
Damn him. Damn him all to hell.
“So show me the bedroom,” Kimberley said, finishing her scotch and making a decision she wasn’t yet sure if she’d regret.
Live on the edge a little, right? The bleeding edge of your own heart, at least.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Kimberley
The moment Cannon’s shirt came off, she knew she definitely wasn’t regretting any of it. For the moment, anyway.
It had taken them about two seconds to go from looking for a spot with cell reception in Cannon’s big bedroom to making out like teenagers, Kimberley sucking on Cannon’s lip while his hands clasped around her waist. He pushed her up against the wall in the corner with the fabled reception and Kimberley heard her phone buzz repeatedly in her pocket, missed messages coming in one by one.
She couldn’t care less.
Her hands tugged up his shirt and Cannon gave in willingly, tearing it off with a hungry look burning in his eyes that Kimberley remembered all too well. Oh yes, she knew what would follow next, and she couldn’t wait!
Cannon was kissing her again a moment later, his lips pressed against hers, his breath coming in snarls as her hands ran down his chest, feeling the tight, coiled muscles still pumped up from the game that day. Not that he needed any additional pump. No, this man was all muscle and testosterone and raw strength. More so now than when she’d known him last. It only made him hotter, and her failure to stick to her high morals all the more delicious.
“Fuck, you’re hot, baby,” Cannon rasped, pulling her ponytail loose before he pulled her T-shirt over her head too, leaving her in a white bra and jeans.
As if they’d rehearsed it, lips still locked, they fumbled with one another’s belts and buttons on the jeans, frenzied hands peeling off clothes while Cannon tugged her back toward the bed. Kimberley let out a little yelp as Cannon practically tossed her on the bed, pulling her jeans off a second later and tossing them on the floor without a care.
She let out a little groan as he got on the bed, rough hands seeking out her chin and neck, holding her where he wanted her while he slicked his tongue into her mouth and kissed her like he was a man in a desert and she was the only water around. The pit of her stomach twisted as she pressed his jeans over his hips and slipped one hand into his boxers, completely shameless about how much she missed how his body felt.
Cannon hissed in a breath as her palm clasped around his cock, semi-erect but already thick in her hand. She pumped it a few times, grinning as he shuddered, but he wouldn’t let her toy with him for too long. Her bra came off in a flash and Kimberley found herself on her back in the soft sheets, Cannon’s strong hands holding her down by the hips as he dipped between her thighs.
He didn’t even bother to peel off her panties. She yelped, fingers coiling in his hair as he pressed her legs apart and lapped his wide tongue over her inner thighs, biting gently in a few spots and making her twitch every time. Her legs shook from that contact and she tossed her head back, arching as he pulled the lacy fabric aside with one finger and ran his tongue over her wet slit in one long, teasing motion that ended at her clit, making tight, concentric circles around the swollen nub.
“Cannon!” she whined, not entirely sure where she was going with it, but her voice was full of need and lust that hadn’t been there since… well, the last time she’d been with him.
Closing her eyes tightly, she whimpered as Cannon pushed a finger into her pussy, sending rivulets of pleasure wringing through her as she pumped her hips up to meet the motion. She could feel the grin on his mouth, his slight stubble scratching against her delicate lips in the most maddening way as he practically feasted on her. Another finger followed the first one and Kimberley’s nails scraped across his scalp and neck, pushing him away and pulling him closer all in the same motion.
“Yessss, don’t you fucking stop,” Kimberley hissed, lips parted as her body twisted underneath Cannon.
