The real reason she’d decided to work from her kitchen table instead of the community hall office was to avoid Neil. The day before, things had gotten completely out of hand, and it couldn’t happen again. Which was an easier vow to stick to if she didn’t see him.
Not that she’d been able to think about much else all day. The memory of his hands on her waist, his stubble leaving a much-missed burn on her skin, and his mouth pressed against hers had distracted her so often, she’d called her mother to say she could pick up Taylor from school. She wasn’t getting anything productive done anyway.
And at least with Taylor at her side, it wouldn’t be possible to give in to the temptation that was Neil Healy, when and if she saw him. She couldn’t get tangled up with her sexy fighter pilot ex-boyfriend—in or out of bed. The day before had been too easy, too familiar, too unsettling.
After picking up the material for the costumes, Becky resolved to spend the rest of the evening in her sewing room working on them, but her plans were put on hold when she saw Cliff’s car in her driveway.
“Hey, Uncle Cliff,” Taylor said, hopping out of the truck.
He took her overstuffed, heavy-looking backpack from her as he passed. “How’s my favorite flower girl?”
“Still not happy about wearing a dress,” she said.
Becky rolled her eyes over her daughter’s head as she unlocked the door. “Come on in. I assume you’re here for your tux fitting?”
He gave a sheepish look as he nodded and closed the door behind him. “Yes. Please don’t tell Holly I left it this late.”
Becky zipped her lips. “Her dress isn’t even done yet. Don’t worry.”
He removed his coat and tossed it over a chair in the living room. “I could kill Mom for insisting Holly wear that thing,” he said, but a second later he nodded his approval when he saw the work in progress hanging in the sewing room. “Wow, this is amazing.”
She smiled, but rushed to put it away. “Thanks, but you weren’t supposed to see it before the wedding. Here’s the tux. Go change. I just volunteered for make my life even busier with Christmas play costumes, so this needs to be quick.”
Twenty minutes later, she walked him back to the front door.
“Thank you again.” He hesitated, sliding into his coat. “And I really hope having Neil in the wedding party isn’t too weird.”
She shook her head no.
“Good. He’s like a brother to me, and I was relieved his next deployment wasn’t happening until the new year. I would have hated if he missed the wedding.”
Deployment? Her mouth felt dry and her stomach knotted. He hadn’t said anything. But why should he have mentioned it? It wasn’t as though they’d done a whole lot of talking when they were together. Their lips were usually far too busy. But the kissing needed to stop, especially if what Cliff said was true and he was leaving again soon. “It’s no problem, really,” she said.
“Great. Thanks, Becky.”
She waved, her chest tightening as she closed the door.
Neil was being deployed. Even more reason to put a stop to things before she ended up right back where she was twelve years ago, faced with a decision she really didn’t want to make.
* * *
God, he missed his motorcycle. The bumper-to-bumper traffic on the highway had been brutal, something he’d rarely had to contend with before, usually taking his chances on a ticket by driving on the shoulder of the road. But he made it to the arena five minutes before his game was scheduled to start.
“Hey, Neil,” Taylor said as she passed. Her hockey lesson must have just ended.
“Hey, superstar,” he said, tapping her helmet. “When are you going pro?”
“Whenever they let me play with the boys,” she grumbled, her grin fading briefly. Then she beamed as she glanced past him. “Hey, Mom, did you see that last goal?”
His mouth went dry, and he turned as Becky answered. “Yes—perfect slap shot…but you know slap shots aren’t allowed.”
“Coach let it slide because it wasn’t a real game.”
He suspected Coach let it slide because she was his star player. A glance at Becky’s expression told him she was thinking the same thing.
“Go get changed and I’ll warm up the truck,” she told her.
“’Kay,” Taylor said, rushing off toward the locker rooms.
The awkward silence that followed in the echo-y building seemed to drag on. Becky’s undecipherable expression was unnerving. Her feelings were usually written all over her face. Not today.
He cleared his throat. “I stopped by the community hall office yesterday.”
“I worked from home.”
To avoid him and any repeat of the passion from the other day. Well, she couldn’t avoid him forever…Though with his next deployment approaching, he’d be making it easy for her in the new year. “I was hoping we could talk.” After his brief conversation with Blake the day before, he knew he had to tell her before she found out from someone else. No matter what was happening between them, she deserved to know. Though he knew it wouldn’t help his cause. The Zamboni passed, clearing the ice, and he checked his watch. He had two minutes until he had to be out there.
“Your game’s about to start, and I need to get Taylor home. We’ll talk another time,” she said, turning to leave.
The temptation to wait was strong, but he knew he shouldn’t. He opened his mouth, but Jackson cut him off before he could speak.
“Hey, sis, wait up,” he said, coming up to them.
Becky shook her head, and her annoyance was now directed at her brother. “No way, Jackson. I know what you’re going to ask, and I already told you, I’m not playing any more this year.”
Jackson gave her a desperate look. “Please. We have two guys out tonight.”
“Not my problem.”
He sighed. “I’ll get Taylor that Bauer stick that’s been sold out everywhere.”
She cocked her head to the side, but her expression was slightly hopeful. “How are you going to do that?”
“I know a guy.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You mean Ben?”
Jackson shrugged. “He knows a guy.”
“I could just ask him myself.”
“No you can’t. Ben refuses to give you his new cell number since you gave the last one to Kim Cahill and she stalked him for three months.”
Neil grinned at her eye roll. “She didn’t stalk him exactly…It was a few phone calls and texts. Ben’s a drama queen.”
Jackson shot a glance at the time. “Becky, the game starts in a minute and a half—come on, please.”
Neil watched her hesitate.
“Jackson, I’ve got shit to do…”
“I’ll get Ben to order the matching hockey skates. She said hers were feeling tight.”
Becky sighed. “I hate you.”
“Mom, I put your goalie gear in the locker room and Grandma’s here to take me home,” Taylor said coming up to them. “Have a good game.”
Jackson grinned.
Neil hid his. Someone knew how to play his sister.
Becky swore under her breath as Jackson walked away.
Neil moved closer. “Looks like you’re the one I’ll be scoring on this evening,” he whispered.
Becky shot him look. “Don’t count on it.”
* * *
Was it her imagination or had Neil really picked up his game since his lesson with Taylor?
Watching from the net, she saw him steal the puck from one of the Hurricanes’ offensive players and dodge Jackson on his way toward her.
When had he learned to skate? The guy she remembered had been like Bambi on ice. His non-hockey-obsessed attitude had been one of things that had drawn her to him when they were teenagers. She’d been surrounded by the sport at home—his interests in other things like hiking and swimming had been a welcome relief.
But tonight, he wasn’t just standing up on the skates, providing a block near his team’s net. He wa
s actually skating and puck handling well.
Becky’s heart picked up speed as he drew nearer. Not because she was at all worried he’d actually get the puck past her—she’d been on skates as long as her brothers and had played goalie as soon as they were big enough to hold her down and strap a set of goalie pads on her—but because of the look of intensity in his dark eyes as they locked with hers.
A memory of his lips against hers, his hands all over her body threw her off her game. She stumbled forward as he approached and her hold tightened on her stick as she steadied herself.
Get a grip. You cannot let Neil Healy score.
Bending her knees, she skated back and forth in front of the net, preparing to block the shot.
His pace slowed as he approached on her right, the puck still cradled dangerously in the crook of his stick and no Hurricane player close enough to steal.
This was all on her. This goal was one she was ready to prevent at all costs.
He wound up to take the shot but then he hesitated.
Briefly, but long enough for Jackson to swipe the puck away, sending it back down the ice.
She straightened and frowned, sending Neil a questioning look, but he just shrugged and skated off for a line change.
He’d had the perfect shot lined up and he hadn’t taken it.
An odd sense of disappointment washed over her.
And it still lingered an hour and a shut-out later as she turned off the water in the shower.
Why hadn’t he taken the shot? Had he thought she couldn’t block it? Or was he afraid she would?
Hearing the locker room door open, her pulse raced. It was after nine. What other woman was at the arena this late? The cleaning crew? Reaching past the curtain, she searched for her towel, but couldn’t feel it on the hook. She forced herself not to sound freaked out as she said, “Hello?”
“If you want this towel, you’ll have to come out and get it,” Neil’s voice provided both relief and even more anxiety.
“Neil, this isn’t funny. Give me my towel.”
“I don’t think I will.”
“Seriously?” She brought her elbows closer to her body, shivering in the lack of heat.
“It’ll cost you.”
“What do you want?” she asked through gritted teeth. He wouldn’t get it, but she’d lie and agree to anything in that moment to get her towel back.
“Just a chance. A chance to talk, to get to know one another again.”
“Why? You’re getting deployed again soon, right?” She closed her eyes. Shit.
He was silent for a second. “Who told you?”
“Can I have my towel?”
His hand appeared through the curtain, the towel dangling.
She snatched it away and wrapped herself tightly in the cool cotton. Could she wait him out, hiding in the shower stall? He couldn’t stay all night. Unfortunately, neither could she. Reluctantly, she pulled back the curtain. “I really need to get home, so…” She nodded toward the door.
He walked toward her and his own fresh-from-the-shower scent mixed with his aftershave made her hold her breath. It wasn’t fair that he always had her at a disadvantage—looking so gorgeous and smelling like everything she’d missed.
He touched her cheek, tucking wet strands behind her ear. “Yes, I’m up for deployment again, but my home base is Colorado.”
She sighed. “Neil, my feelings about a military life haven’t changed.”
He let his hand drop. “But being married to a cop was okay?”
“No. It was terrifying every time he left the house, and disappointing every time he missed a birthday or Christmas or anniversary…”
He nodded. “I understand how you feel. I understood years ago, and I do now, but, Becky, you can’t deny that the love we had was real…and this crazy pull we have now goes deeper than just physical.”
“We were kids back then.” She lowered her gaze to the floor. It was a lame excuse and she knew it. They may have been young, but the love and affection they’d had for one another had been real. It had grown out of friendship into something so strong, breaking it the first time had killed her. But she’d experienced too much heartache in one lifetime already to willingly set herself up for more.
“We’re not kids now,” he said, placing his finger under her chin, tilting her face to look at him.
She swallowed hard. “I’m not interested.”
“That’s a lie.”
“No, it isn’t.” Not entirely, at least. She took a step away. “The other day I let my guard down. I let common sense take a vacation, because the rest of me sure as hell isn’t getting one anytime soon. But I have no intention of slipping up again.”
He took a step forward. “Why not? What would be so wrong in taking a chance and seeing where things go?”
“I told you, you’re military. And I’ve been down that road…sort of.”
His jaw clenched. “So, you’re still using my career as a reason not to be with me.”
“Taylor and I came second to the job, to the greater good once before, and I got it. But to do it again.” She shook her head. “No way.” Rob had been so brave, so strong, so committed to his job, but it had come at a cost to their family. He’d missed so many important life moments, and she and Taylor had had to bury their disappointment. The stress the danger of his career had put on his family was also something she didn’t want to experience again. Something she was adamant not to put her daughter through again.
He took a deep breath. “I’m not Rob.”
“But you still wear a uniform.”
“And that won’t change, for anyone.”
“Well, then it’s a good thing I’m not asking.” Heart pounding, she turned to open her locker.
He grabbed her wrist and swung her back around to face him. Placing a hand on the damp skin of her back above the towel, he pressed her into him and his mouth found hers.
Damn. Why couldn’t he just walk away? Her knees felt weak beneath her as she slid her arms around his neck and savored the taste of him as his tongue explored her mouth.
He held her closer, his fingers creeping up the back of her neck, tangling in her wet hair. She could feel his heart beating in his chest, and hers fell into a rhythm with it. The kiss was full of passion, but there was also an underlying frustration that only made it hotter.
He bent slightly at the knees, letting his hands drop to her exposed thighs just beneath the edge of the towel, and her breath caught in her chest as they slid higher to cup her bare ass, lifting her slightly off her feet. She could feel his erection pressing into her stomach, and her own body pulsed with a desire to have him inside of her. His breath was coming fast and hard as he broke the kiss for an instant to steal a breath before turning his head to the other side and reclaiming her mouth as though breathing could wait. His fingers dug into her flesh and squeezed hard. The sting on her bare, wet flesh only intensified the pleasure, and she clung to him. The rough, calloused hands gripped tighter as he pushed his pelvis forward as though desperate to satiate his own need for her, through his jeans, through her towel…
She urged herself to pull away as her body trembled, but instead she arched her back to press her body into him, craving the heat he offered, lost in the whirlwind of the moment. The feel of his back muscles beneath his shirt had her clutching the fabric between her fingers, and the scent of his citrusy shampoo from his still damp hair made her want to climb back into a hot shower with him. It would be so easy to give in to this moment, this need, to feel his body offering pleasure to the parts of her demanding to be satisfied…But their attraction was more than just physical, and it was the complicated, confusing emotions she needed to break away from.
Before she no longer could.
Reluctantly she pulled away, freeing herself from his grasp as she took several steps backward, a trembling hand going to her lips, which still tingled from the sizzle in their kiss. “That didn’t change my mind.”
He took
a slow, deep breath, his dark eyes so full of sexual frustration blazing into hers. “I wasn’t trying to change your mind. I was showing you what you’d be missing…again,” he said, as he turned and left the locker room.
Chapter 7
Neil slid his sunglasses on as the first sign of sun that week appeared, the bright light reflecting off the snow and nearly blinding him. “First time flying low over these mountains can be a little daunting,” he told his new recruits as they sat in the cockpit of a T-1 Jayhawk on the runway at Pueblo County Airport.
The two men across from him nodded. “Yes, sir,” they said in unison.
“But rest assured, while it resembles a regular twin-engine jet, it is different from a commercial jet. The structural enhancements allow for several landings per flight hour, and we have an additional fuel tank. However, today’s training session shouldn’t have us in the air long enough to warrant its use.”
Another nod.
Okay, then. He ran a hand over his face as they taxied to the end of the runway and stopped, waiting for takeoff clearance.
Next to him, the pale-looking younger of the two men kissed the cross he wore around his neck. “Nervous of flying, Lieutenant Spencer?”
“No, sir. Nervous of crashing, sir.”
He smiled. “Fair enough. The weather is clear so it should be smooth sailing.” Unless he decided to mess with them a little. “You’re in good hands.”
“I know that, sir. Your reputation as one of the best instructors is putting me at ease.” He clenched the seat tight.
This was at ease? Poor kid. It would get easier. Hopefully, his missions would keep his feet mainly on the ground.
Next, Lieutenant Spencer removed a photo from his pocket and kissed it quickly before tucking it away.
“Girlfriend? Wife?” Neil asked.
“Fiancée, sir.”
“Does she know the life she’s marrying into?” he asked before he could stop himself. Becky’s comments the night before had irritated him well into the morning hours. She said she’d lived this life before and wasn’t interested in it again. It irked him that she was comparing him and his loyalties and commitment to those of another man. And damn, if arguing with the woman while she was wearing only a towel wasn’t a major distraction. The threadbare fabric had done nothing to hide her beautiful curves, and she was lucky he’d had enough self-control to stop at just a kiss. Barely. He let out a slow deep breath as he said, “Sorry, lieutenant. Don’t answer that.”
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