They’d talk soon, but first, Ford needed coffee. He took a deep breath and frowned. Why was he smelling paint? Rubbing his eyes, he looked over at the empty bed. There were dents on the pillows. Cort and Akira had been here. After he’d fallen asleep. And they’d both gotten up before him.
Damn, what time was it?
He rubbed his eyes and stared at the clock. It was almost noon. He’d slept for over twelve hours. He rarely slept more than five.
Maybe his body had finally decided to catch up. Which would be fine, only he should have gone to the forum today to make up for missing that meeting. The last thing he needed was for Keane to think he wasn’t serious about his position with the team. If the team was moved the new owner needed to see he was willing to go with it. That he was an asset.
Not that he was even sure he was willing to move, but what else was he supposed to do? His business degree was a joke, he had no experience except what he’d gotten working in team management, and he’d only gotten that job because of his father, then his sisters. The man who’d raised him had gone to jail for money laundering, conspiracy to commit murder, and a dozen other crimes that would have kept him imprisoned for life. Ford had been cleared of any charges relating to the case, but who’d really believe he wasn’t just as dirty?
And even if they did, what the fuck was he even qualified for?
I really need that coffee.
He pulled on a pair of jeans and left the bedroom. Halfway down the hall, he heard strange voices coming from the spare bedroom. He reached for the handle.
It wouldn’t budge.
“Go downstairs, Ford,” Cort said through the door. “We’ll be with you in a minute.”
Frowning, Ford twisted the doorknob. “What the fuck? Did I do something wrong?”
“No.” Cort murmured something to whoever was in the room with him. Soft masculine laughter followed. Then Cort continued. “Will you trust me? Go make some coffee.”
A nod and Ford started down the stairs, not sure why he was so pissed, but he’d figure it out once he had some caffeine in his system.
Only, before he took his first sip, his mind was racing. Was Akira in there with Cort? Who were the other men? The three of them didn’t have an open relationship, but they’d played with others. Maybe Cort thought Ford was too fucked up for the games he was into? Some of the mechanics his man worked with were hot. Would Cort actually bring them here? Would he and Akira fool around with them to prove they didn’t need Ford at all?
Slumping into a chair, Ford took a quick gulp of the coffee he’d made much too strong, burning his lips and his tongue. He cursed, spilling half the cup over his hand as he tried to set it down. His hand throbbed as he rubbed it roughly against his flannel pajama pants, but the pain drew him away from the depressing hole he’d fallen in.
Footsteps in the hall brought his head up and he frowned as two men he didn’t know walked by, followed by Cort and Akira. Akira smiled and thanked them, then turned and rushed across the kitchen, wrapping her arms around Ford’s shoulders.
“Don’t look so pissed, we have a surprise for you.” She slipped into his lap, grabbing some napkins to wipe up his mess before he even had the chance to. “I wasn’t expecting you to sleep so long, but I’m happy you did. Everything is perfect. Or…I think it’s perfect.”
Ford nodded slowly, reaching for his cup. “Who were those guys? If they’re part of the surprise, why are they leaving?”
“Part of the—damn it, Ford.” She grabbed his wrist and stared at his hand. “What did you do?”
“I spilled the coffee you just cleaned up.”
“You’re drinking it black. And you’re grumpy.” She sighed as Cort stepped into the kitchen. “Can you get a damp washcloth?”
Cort frowned. “What did he do?”
“I spilled some fucking coffee, that’s all!” Ford eased Akira off his lap, rubbing his hands over his face and trying to steady himself before he made things worse. He wasn’t even sure why he was so mad. Lack of caffeine didn’t explain it. The pain had helped for a minute, but the rush was gone. “I’m sorry. I just…I wasn’t expecting you to want to play with other people so soon. I thought we discussed this stuff before it happened and—”
“Damn it, Ford.” Cort quickly wet a cloth and came to the table, laying it over the bright red blotch on Ford’s hand. “Listen to yourself. Do you really think I’d randomly bring a bunch of strangers over to fuck while you were sleeping?”
Put that way, it sounded ridiculous. But Ford’s whole life had become some kind of Greek tragedy and he kinda expected the worst. Saved him the trouble of being crushed when shit eventually went to hell.
“You won’t fuck me, so I guess…” The back of Ford’s neck heated as he realized how pathetic he sounded. He inhaled slowly as Akira rubbed his shoulders. “I don’t even know what I’m saying. I’m a goddamn mess.”
“You are, but that’s okay. There’s a lot happening all at once.” Akira gave him a hug from behind. “And you sound like you’ve got a bit of sub drop. Cort told me about the scene. It was pretty intense.”
“We’ve both had worse.”
“What’s worse? I’ve been moody for days after a scene and you always understand. And do everything you can to make me feel better.” Akira stole his coffee cup, went to the counter to refill it, and added cream and sugar before bringing it back to him. “You know the rules. This works both ways. We take care of one another. I just wish I’d been here earlier.”
“I get why you weren’t.” Ford carefully took a sip of coffee. Much better. He pressed his eyes shut. “I didn’t mean to go off like that, but seriously, who were those guys?” He glanced over at Cort. “Do they work with you?”
“No. They…” Cort’s lips curved. “I can’t tell you without spoiling the surprise. Finish your coffee. We’ll show you what we did, have some happy moments, and then you’re going to tell me exactly how you feel about my employees. Then I can tell you how I feel about you being around hot hockey players all day.” He hesitated, then looked over at Akira. “Both of you.”
“I rarely see the players, and Silver’s establishing some boundaries like other teams have to avoid any more scandals reaching the press.” Akira shook her head and blew a strand of hair away from her face. “Not so extreme that we have to leave a restaurant if a player walks in, or keep our eyes down if we cross paths in the corridor, but we’re not supposed to connect on social media and fraternization is ‘discouraged’.”
“How does that work when your co-captain is dating the Cobras’ captain?” Cort pulled out a chair, settling down and lifting the rag off Ford’s hand to check the burn. He frowned at the small blister forming over Ford’s thumb, but didn’t comment. “Silver’s not going to try and separate them, is she? Because that won’t go well for her.”
“No, nothing like that. From what I understand, Keane asked her to tone down the drama. One of my girls hit on a married man and his wife went off on Twitter. I talked to the girl—she thought he was interested in her because he smiled at her once. She was totally star struck.” Akira let out a soft laugh. “She’s only eighteen, not a bad kid, but she has a lot to learn. Silver and I went over the new rules she drafted and they’re fair.”
“That’s good.” Cort waited until Ford had finished half of his coffee, then stood, holding out his hand. “You need to know this was Akira’s idea. She let me help a little, after much persuasion.”
Coffee and the relaxed conversation had Ford feeling more human. And sane. This was his life. A normal morning with the man and woman he loved, talking about the team and their jobs. Not how much of a mess he’d made of their lives. Not whether they’d make it through the chaos that always seemed to surround him.
Taking Cort’s hand, Ford stood, smiling as Akira tucked her hands into the back pockets of his jeans. She looked happy. Excited. He wasn’t sure what had put her in such a good mood, but he couldn’t wait to find out. If anyone deserved some good in the
ir life, it was this beautiful, strong woman. She worked too damn hard for his shit to be bringing her down.
“Okay, now close your eyes.” Even as she spoke, Akira slid her hands up his back, then over his eyes as though to make doubly sure he didn’t cheat and peek.
She knew him very well.
Cort led him forward. The door opened softly and the scent of fresh paint intensified. Akira’s hands shook a little before she pulled them away.
She inhaled roughly, moving to stand beside him. “You can open your eyes.”
Ford opened his eyes. Lips parted, he stared at the room that had gone unused for months. His throat tightened as he stepped forward and looked around.
The walls were painted a rich blue, and new, plain white curtains covered the large windows. A wide, blue and white zigzag rug covered the center of the gleaming, hardwood floor, by the bed so someone wouldn’t have to step on the cold floor first thing in the morning. The bed was a simple, white platform style with a wide drawer underneath, perfect for storing toys and games. A matching dresser stood in one corner of the room, and a compact, L-shaped desk was set up to the left of the window.
He swallowed, completely stunned by what Akira had pulled together in such a short time. If Cort hadn’t insisted on helping her, she would have struggled to get it done on her own. She’d done this for his son. His eyes prickled as he shook his head.
“Please tell me you don’t hate it.” Akira grabbed his arm. “I know the walls are bare, and I grabbed one of the blankets we already had, so it’s really plain, but I don’t know what he’s into and I figured you’d want to help him fix it up how he likes and—”
“It’s fucking perfect, Akira.” Ford blinked fast, pulling her into his arms. “I was too worried about proving I could be a dad to start setting things up here. And…I thought I might have to find my own place.”
“Fuck that. This is where you belong. Where your son belongs. Full stop.” Cort put his arm around Ford’s shoulders, his tone rough, but his hold strong. Steadying. “You’re gonna be an awesome dad.”
“I’ll do my best.” Ford took a deep breath, gently eased Akira away from him, and cupped her cheek as she met his level gaze. “Are you sure about this? I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you made sure my son will feel at home here, but it’s still…a lot.”
“Yep. But so are the two of you.” Akira’s lips quirked slightly. She licked her bottom lip, then glanced over at Cort, who smiled at her and nodded. “Speaking of, you gotta start picking up your own towels.”
Ford’s brow furrowed. What did towels have to do with anything? “Ah…haven’t I been?”
Cort let out a soft laugh. “No. You haven’t. And Akira’s been picking up the slack for you, which isn’t fair. Your son will pick up all our worst habits. We’ve got to be a team, figure out the rules and shit together. One of them is gonna be not leaving a mess for someone else to clean up.”
Damn…this was actually happening. The conversation, the room, everything made Jaxon becoming a permanent part of his life more real. Ford had been terrified before, but somehow Akira and Cort talking like it was a done deal helped him look forward to the day his son would come home.
Laughing, he grabbed Akira and lifted her up against him, kissing her as she let out a surprised gasp. “I swear I’ll pick up my towels. And I’m sorry I’ve been a slob. I’ll do better. Prove I fucking deserve you.”
“You already do.” Akira wrapped her arms around his neck, smiling against his lips. “But if you really want to make it up to me, you can deal with the stained coveralls Cort’s hiding in the garage.”
“Deal.” Ford shook his head when Cort looked ready to argue. “You did all this after busting your ass at work. I need to take care of you too.”
Cort’s lips curved in a soft smile. He brushed his lips across Ford’s cheek. “Sounds like a plan.”
Chapter 13
Not a day in the forum went by without some kind of end-of-the-world, lightning-speed-or-everything-is-over event. Ainsley hadn’t expected working for Silver Delgado to be a walk in the park, but it wasn’t her boss who kept the underlying panic-mode going. Upper management managed to remain calm and collected no matter what was going on.
The rest of the organization reminded her of worker ants in perpetual motion. She’d seen interns running down the hall to deliver messages. The people in marketing spoke so fast she wasn’t sure how anyone could understand a word they said. Behind closed doors meetings became shouting matches.
Hiding in Silver’s office most of the day kept Ainsley sane, but she still prayed things would level out when the season began. The possibility of the team being moved might have something to do with the urgency, but she tried not to think about that too much. Crazy as it could be, after just a few days, she loved her job. She didn’t want to think about having to find a new one in less than a year.
Arms loaded with Silver’s mail and the schedule she’d printed out last night, Ainsley hurried down the hall, dodging a junior executive who worked for Becky. The young Korean man, Jung Kwang-soo, who was soft-spoken and seemed to be the only person Becky trusted to relay messages to the upper management during a crisis, had been thrown a party yesterday when he’d gained his Canadian citizenship. For a precious thirty minutes, everyone had taken a break to celebrate with him.
Then his phone had gone off with one of the many notifications he got when the players posted something online and the party had ended with an abrupt sense of dread. From the look of him, he hadn’t slept.
Hopefully, he’d gone home. At least for a few hours.
“Have you seen Becky? She’s not in her office and Mr. Keane wanted updates pronto and she has to bring them to him—” Jung took a deep breath, groaning as his phone went off. “Please don’t let this be another reporte—Hello? Yes, of course. We will be sending out the press release shortly. We’ll get back to you about interviews… My pleasure. Feel free to email me the request.” He pressed his eyes shut as he clicked off the call. “I need this day to end. I’m supposed to finish early so I can pick my sister up after her first day of school.”
Ainsley nodded, glancing at the file in his hand. “I can drop that off with him if you’d like. Silver needs her mail, but his office is on the way.”
“Really? Oh god, that would help so much.” He handed her the file, gritting his teeth as his phone went off again. “I owe you. Seriously, I expect you to collect one day. I’m excellent with transcribing and writing diplomatic emails.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” She grinned as he rushed off, speaking on the phone in a relaxed tone she couldn’t manage sitting at her desk with a latte. Of course, Silver’s phone was constantly going off and she sometimes jumped from one call to the next without a chance to suck in air. She was pretty sure Silver had told her to get the mail to give her a breather.
But she’d better get back before Silver tried to do everything herself, got frazzled, and cursed out an investor. Again.
One floor up, she slowed in front of Keane’s door, biting her bottom lip as she stared at the gleaming dark wood. They’d only spoken in passing over the past few days, but her strict ‘don’t go there, girl’ didn’t stop her pulse from stuttering anytime he’d glanced over at her and smiled. Or when she heard his voice, deep and rich, with a lulling quality that had her leaning forward, as though it was fireplace warmth on a freezing winter night, soothing the cold away after being out in a storm. His voice was also the storm, a comforting sound surrounding her, powerful, yet somehow keeping all the stress and noise of her busy life at bay.
Or maybe it had been too long since she’d taken Sawyer on a ski trip. A few years at least. She missed getting away from it all and she’d been saving up to bring him again this winter. That was what was on her mind. Distracting her. A getaway with her son. Not the totally out-of-bounds boss she knew better than to fantasize about.
And she was being silly. She could deliver a file to Keane without
acting like a schoolgirl with a crush. Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward and knocked softly on his door.
Nothing.
Then a rough, broken sound that tugged at her heart. She opened the door slowly, swallowing hard as she spotted Keane, hands braced on the edge of his desk, back to her, shoulders bowed.
She should probably leave. She didn’t know him well enough to comfort him, but she couldn’t just walk away either.
Shutting the door behind her, she crossed the room. “Mr. Keane, are you all right?”
He went still, then glanced over at her, not bothering to wipe the tears from his face, though he did force a smile. “Ms. Lalonde, I’m sorry I didn’t hear you come in.” He took a deep breath, straightened, then pulled the kerchief from his suit pocket and dried his cheeks. “I shouldn’t be here today, but my daughters shooed me out of the house this morning. Madison, the youngest of the twins, wanted one last normal day before her surgery and said it wouldn’t feel right if I stayed home worrying.”
Her heart ached for him. She hadn’t heard anything about his daughter being ill, but she could imagine how hard it would be to have to come to work and pretend like everything was normal. She’d had trouble doing that after Sawyer got stitches. Several times.
This seemed much more serious. “She sounds like a strong young woman. But as parents we can’t help worry.”
“Very true.” Keane rolled his shoulders. “I just got off the phone with her doctor. He was explaining what she’ll need to do to prepare for surgery and her chances for a full recovery. They’re high, but not perfect.”
“Anything less than perfect must be terrifying.”
He inclined his head. “Yes. But her chances of living past her teens without it are even worse. My baby has been through too much. I wish I could shield her from going through more.”
“And you could let yourself feel how much that hurts because she’s not here, needing your strength.” She gave him a small smile as he nodded. “Admirable, but don’t try to hold in too much. Our kids have a way of knowing we’re human.”
OverTime (The Dartmouth Cobras Book 9) Page 16
