Maybe This Kiss

by Jennifer Snow

  He hadn’t wanted to.

  Hell, he’d wanted to do far more than kiss her. The hurt he’d felt over the years obviously couldn’t compete with the longing for her that hadn’t faded over time.

  She’d once been his best friend, the person who understood him best, who was there for him during his father’s own tours overseas with the Air Force, and she’d been right there by his side when his dad hadn’t come home. An only child himself, Becky and her brothers had been like a second family to him. She used to be home for him—the one place he’d felt grounded, stable, and sure.

  He shivered as the icy breeze ripped through his leather jacket. But then an image of the black lace thong he’d rescued from the washing machine made his body rush with heat. What he wouldn’t give to see her in those. Even dressed in pajama pants and a hilariously offensive sweatshirt, he’d been attracted to her. The same beautiful blue eyes and untamable hair framing her gorgeous face. And when his hands had gripped her waist, an image of the spectacular body he knew was under the baggy clothing had awakened a craving in him he hadn’t had for a woman in years. He unzipped his jacket a little, exposing his flushed neck, and sighed. Apparently the only thing that would help him survive this cold Colorado winter was inappropriate thoughts about the love of his life.

  Chapter 3

  I think we should replace you on the team with Taylor,” Blake said, coming up behind him at the arena the next day.

  Standing by the boards, watching the end of the kids’ hockey lesson, Neil had been thinking the same thing. Becky’s little girl was a natural on skates. Growing up with three hockey star uncles, all of whom had been just as incredible at that age, probably had a little to do with that. It didn’t surprise him that two of them had gone pro. “Hey, man. I didn’t say I was any good. In fact, I’m pretty sure I warned all of you that this Miami-adopted boy was useless on anything other than a surfboard these days.”

  “We needed the extra player,” Blake grumbled, as the kids left the ice. “Maybe you should ask Taylor for some pointers on how to beat her uncle out there.”

  As if.

  Jackson Westmore might only be the coach of the junior league these days, but not too long ago, he was moving up the hockey chain, looking for his place in the NHL alongside his two brothers. It was no secret that the only time the Falcons beat the Hurricanes were the nights Jackson didn’t play. “Unless she can give him food poisoning to take him out, I don’t think there’s a whole lot we could get from her.”

  Blake shrugged. “Well, ask her to teach you how to hold a stick at least.”

  Neil shook his head as Blake walked away. He’d gladly let someone else take his place on the team. Freezing his nuts off once a week in an arena where the chilled air felt colder than outside was something he’d readily give up. He was competitive by nature, and having his ego take a blow each week didn’t exactly make his involvement on the team any sweeter.

  Maybe he should enlist Taylor’s help. Her mother may be off-limits, but his game could use a pick up. “Hi, Taylor,” he said, catching up to her as she left the ice.

  “Do not talk to me,” she said, holding up a gloved hand and refusing to look at him.

  Wow. Even less subtle than her mother. “Did I do something to make you mad?”

  She stopped and sighed. “My mom made me clean up the laundry room for letting you into the house last night.” If looks could kill.

  Oops. “Sorry about that.”

  She started to walk away and he followed. “Hang on a sec, I was wondering if you might stick around for a bit?”

  Her eyes widened and he expected her to yell “Stranger danger!” any second.

  “I meant, I was wondering if you could help me with my hockey skills,” he clarified, and immediately regretted it. He sounded like a moron. Stupid Blake.

  But she was at least laughing now instead of looking apprehensive like just moments before. “You’d need skills first before I could help you with them.”

  He grinned. “Okay, smarty pants. Can you teach me how to hold the stick?”

  She hesitated but then nodded. “Twenty bucks.”

  His mouth gaped. “You’re charging me?”

  She shrugged. “Someday I’m going to go pro, and twenty bucks for a lesson will be a steal.”

  He hesitated, hoping his hard stare would bring down the price, but her dark brown eyes just matched it. Her dark hair and eyes made her look nothing at all like her mother, but that spark in her eyes, the determined set chin, and her no-nonsense attitude were all Becky.

  “Good point. You have a deal.” He took the cash from his wallet, but pulled back when she reached for the money. “I also expect to hear if your uncle has any weak points.”

  “Sure. He doesn’t have many, but I’ll sell him out.”

  Spirited and quick-witted. So much like Becky. “Then you have yourself twenty bucks and my full attention.”

  * * *

  Becky frowned as she climbed the arena bleachers to where her daughter was watching the Falcons play the Hurricanes. “Is the scoreboard broken?” she asked as she sat.

  Taylor smiled and shook her head. “Nope.”

  Becky squinted as she scanned the ice. There was Jackson. Number 13. “But your uncle’s out there…and they’re losing?” Had the Falcons picked up a new player? An ex-pro hockey player?

  Taylor shrugged.

  Weird. But what was even weirder was her daughter didn’t seem perturbed by the situation at all. Taylor thought the world of her uncles. Where Becky saw three pain-in-the-ass younger brothers, her daughter saw three hockey gods.

  After Rob died, Ben, Jackson, and Asher had become male role models for her daughter, and when the only topic of discussion between the men was hockey, there was no avoiding a hockey-obsessed child. Becky’s hopes of having a girly girl to balance out the testosterone in the family had disappeared the moment Taylor had started taking hockey lessons.

  But she couldn’t deny her daughter was good. A little too good…and was it her imagination, or had she given a thumbs-up sign to Neil?

  As he skated past them and winked—not at her, but at her daughter—her mouth went dry. “Didn’t I tell you to stay away from him?” Aimed at her or not, the casual gesture had heat creeping up her neck beneath her heavy scarf. She loosened it and unzipped her thermal winter coat.

  Taylor shrugged. “He paid me to give him a hockey lesson. You know I’m saving for that Bauer stick you refuse to buy me.”

  Right. Use guilt. She shot her daughter a look. “How much did you charge him?”

  “Not enough apparently,” she said as, on the ice, Neil scored his team’s third goal against the Hurricanes, giving the Falcons an unheard of two-point lead.

  Apparently. “Well, no more, okay?” It made her uneasy to think of Neil and her daughter spending time together. If he intended to use Taylor as a way to get close to her again, she’d put an end to that immediately. She didn’t need her daughter in the middle of whatever was happening between them. Or not happening.

  “What’s so bad about him? He seems okay.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Huh?” Taylor looked confused, but luckily nothing held her attention while there was hockey to watch.

  Becky sighed. Her daughter, even if she had been interested, wouldn’t understand. Her ex was a nice guy, a fantastic guy—caring and sweet…and had she mentioned sexy? In other words, impossible to resist, just as he’d been years before. She’d always been head over heels for him, and when he left Glenwood Falls to join the military, she’d been heartbroken. She understood his desire to follow in his father’s footsteps, and she knew losing him at the age of sixteen had been the deciding factor for Neil’s future, but up until the day he’d left for basic, she’d been hoping he’d reconsider.

  They’d lost his father overseas, a man she’d liked and admired for his strength and dedication to raising Neil alone, after his mother left when he was a baby. Then Neil choose to walk right into
the dangerous career himself? She couldn’t help but wonder if his father would have wanted this life for his son. He’d always pushed Neil to study hard and pursue a different career…but maybe the military was it for him. She wished she could have been supportive back then, but her own fears had held her back, away from committing to a life with him.

  He skated past again and this time his gaze locked with hers. A shiver danced down her spine, making even her toes tingle.

  Damn. He still had such an effect on her. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the kiss all day, and she wondered if he was suffering a similar fate. The unexplainable buzz she’d been feeling as she worked was similar to the one she’d had when they were together—excitement mixed with a longing and anticipation to be near him again—but now it was clouded by too much hesitancy and doubt, dampened by the reality that what they’d had was in the past and she needed to leave it there.

  So much had changed in twelve years, but essentially the things that mattered—their values and life goals—remained the same.

  The game ended a few minutes later with the Hurricanes returning to tie the score. “Okay, let’s go,” she said to Taylor, checking her watch.

  “Can we go out to dinner?” her daughter asked.

  “No. I have to get back to the community hall. You can do your homework while I finish the holiday event schedule.”

  “Mom! I’m starving,” she whined.

  Becky collected her daughter’s coat and gloves from the bench. “We’ll grab food on the way.”

  “I want to go to the Slope and Hatch.” Taylor swung her heavy hockey bag over her shoulder and bounded down the cement stairs. She stopped at the bottom to high-five the players as they came off the ice.

  Both teams would probably be heading to the Slope and Hatch before heading out for beers. Another reason to avoid the restaurant that evening. “Taylor, not tonight. We can go there tomorrow after school for ice cream, but today I really have to get work done.”

  “She can come with us, and I’ll drop her off at the community hall,” Neil said, nearing them as he left the ice.

  Wow. Eavesdrop much? “Taylor, go wait in the truck.”

  “But…”

  She silenced the protest with a look, and her daughter stomped away. She turned to Neil, the stern look still plastered on her face. “You paid an eight-year-old for a hockey lesson?”

  “She was a great coach. Did you see that goal against your…”

  She cut him off. “Please do not use my daughter to get to me.”

  He took a step toward her. “Who says I’m trying to get to you?”

  She swallowed hard. “The dinner invite…” She lowered her voice. “The kiss…”

  “Lapses in judgment, that’s all,” he said, unsnapping his helmet and removing it.

  She ignored the tug of disappointment in her chest and the flip-flop in her stomach as he ran a hand through his damp hair. Years ago, he’d kept it buzzed in a traditional military cut, but now he wore it slightly longer, and she wondered what it would feel like to run her own hands through the perfect mess. The faint smell of masculine sweat coming from him was a complete turn-on, and she fought to hold her breath against the tempting scent. His hockey jersey clung to his chest and shoulders, and while he may not have been the greatest player on the ice, he made the team colors look damn good.

  Why was it so hard to keep herself from stepping into his arms? This magnetic pull between them was too intense. She needed distance. A lot of distance. Being so close to him, memories competing with a new attraction, was dangerous. “Well, try not to have any more.”

  When he stared at her, a look of unconcealed desire mixed with annoyance reflecting in his eyes, her knees didn’t seem to work. “You don’t have anything to worry about.”

  “Good.” Then why didn’t it sound good?

  “Good,” he agreed, sounding even less confident about it than she did.

  Great.

  * * *

  The Grumpy Stump, the local watering hole, was full of beautiful women. But the only one he couldn’t stop thinking about was the one he knew was working her butt off at the community hall four blocks away to prepare for the upcoming Christmas festivities.

  Though she might as well be half a world away.

  Twice in two days she’d made herself very clear. She was not interested in getting to know him again. He wouldn’t make a fool of himself by asking a third time.

  Just enjoy the team’s almost win and this cold, refreshing lager, and do not ask Jackson anything about his sister. “What’s the deal with your sister these days?” Shit. So much for that.

  “Look, man, you know better than anyone that Becky’s stubborn and strong-willed, and quite honestly, I’m a little bit afraid of her, so I am not getting involved in whatever you two are doing…or not doing.”

  “Not doing.” He sighed, running a hand over the stubble at his chin. “I fixed her washing machine yesterday.” The memory of the black lace thong he’d pulled from the thing was etched in his brain, and brought to mind other sexy lingerie and the times he’d removed the garments from her body. She’d been his first. A man didn’t forget his first. He’d always thought she’d be his last, too. He cleared his throat and shifted in the seat.

  “Thank you for saving me the trouble,” Jackson said, glaring at him as though he’d just been reading his thoughts.

  “Is she seeing someone?” he asked, the words slipping out before he could question why it mattered. She obviously was based on her choice of undergarments.

  Jackson stood and picked up his beer. “I’m out.” He moved three booths away.

  Great. He was becoming that pain-in-the-ass guy who sat in a bar full of available, interested women and drove his friends crazy sulking about the one he couldn’t have.

  One he shouldn’t want, either. Was he desperate for another heartache?

  On the other side of the booth, Blake eyed him. “I didn’t want to say anything with Jackson at the table, but what is going on with you two, anyway?”

  “Nothing.”

  “That exchange at the arena was nothing? I thought the staredown between the two of you was going to set the ice on fire. And did she say ‘kiss’?”

  Neil sighed. Wow, the guy had amazing hearing. “Really, man, it was nothing. Just old feelings getting dredged up, that’s all.”

  “Then, you need to back off. Becky’s already been dealt a shit deal with Rob’s death.”

  “I have no intention of complicating her life.” He paused. “What happened to him?” He’d heard Rob had died on a mountain rescue, but he wasn’t sure of the details.

  “He was a search-and-rescue volunteer. He went out on a call when three teenagers went missing on Pikes Peak. Hiking during an avalanche warning.” Blake shook his head. “The kids were found, but Rob never was.”

  “Damn.” His mouth went dry. Losing someone you loved was hard enough, but never finding a body? A shiver ran down his spine. He knew danger. He knew what it was to put his life on the line. But the ones who really risked everything were the wives and families who never knew if their loved ones would return after they walked out the door. Like his own father hadn’t. Despite being broken-hearted by her decision to end things, he could never argue that Becky had been wrong about his chosen career. It was dangerous and uncertain.

  Therefore, as hard as it would be, his friend was right. He had to leave Becky Westmore alone.

  Chapter 4

  Hearing a knock on the front door, Becky released the pedal on the sewing machine and hurried down the hall to open the door for Holly early the next day.

  “Holy jingle bells, it is freaking freezing today. Snow’s on the way,” Holly said as she entered, shivering despite her thick thermal jacket.

  Becky scanned the dark, heavy clouds in the sky and nodded her agreement. “Surprised we’ve made it this far into fall without it,” she said, closing the door.

  Holly unwrapped layers of scarf from
around her neck and removed her boots and coat. Then she removed a cardigan sweater and a pair of leg warmers. Becky laughed. “A little overkill?”

  Holly shook her blond waves. “I spent the last four winters in L.A. Getting reaccustomed to Colorado weather is no joke.”

  Becky’s thoughts immediately went to Neil. This had to be an adjustment for him, too. His motorcycle driving days were numbered. Thank God. Watching him drive off on that thing the other night had her longing to feel vibrations between her own thighs. She must be insane to be so attracted to the opposite of what she knew was good for her.

  “So, where is it?” Holly asked.

  Right—the wedding dress. “In the sewing room, but let me warn you, it’s far from finished.” She’d stayed up until three a.m. the night before working on the dress alterations and then continued them all morning after dropping Taylor off at school. There was still a lot to do, but at least Holly would have something to try on.

  “Anything has to be better than what it was.”

  “True.” Becky led the way to the sewing room and pushed open the door. Picking up the dress, she held it out for her friend’s inspection. “I’ve taken it in along the waist and removed those awful lace sleeves. I’ve added a detachable train…”

  Holly’s hands had covered her mouth and her eyes were watering.

  A good sign? Or had she completely messed this up? Becky waited, biting her lip, as her friend continued to stare at the dress. Oh God, maybe she should have insisted Holly wait a little longer to see it. Once more of the finishing touches were added. “Like I said, it’s far from…”

  Holly hugged her, squishing the dress between them. “I’m not going to look like the bride of Frankenstein after all. Thank you so much.”

  Becky laughed. “So, it’s okay so far?”

  “Yes. Better than okay.” Holly stepped back and took the dress. “You really need to do something with this talent of yours,” she said, admiring the work.

  Becky sighed, picking up a stack of tree skirts she’d finished the week before. “I am. I’m making tree skirts for Santa’s village at the mall.” A contract job she’d picked up, thinking it would be a quick and easy way to earn the extra cash for that hockey stick Taylor was obsessing over. Little contract jobs were the extent of her sewing these past few years. But at one time she’d been hoping to do something more with her talent with a needle and thread.