Between a Jock and a Hard Place

by Mona Ingram

  She thought for a moment. “It will take some getting used to, but I think maybe Jack would be easier.” She looked into his eyes. “At least in public.”

  “Hey, you two. Get a room.” Cam was watching them with a smile on his face.

  “Speaking of which, are we still on for this afternoon?” Jack tore his eyes away from Claire. “Sorry, Cam. That didn’t sound right. Claire and I had a date this afternoon. I’d planned to come clean then.”

  “Hey, you guys go ahead. I can get a cab home.”

  “You will not!” Claire glared at her brother. “I’ll drop you off and then go on to Jack’s place. Don’t even try to argue.” She turned to Jack. “He’s still getting dizzy spells from the concussion.”

  Jack’s brows drew together. “I saw the replay of that hit. It was definitely late.” He turned to Claire. “In my opinion, the guy who hit him should have received at least a game misconduct if not a suspension.”

  Cam offered a wry smile. “I was cool with it at the time, but that was because I thought I’d bounce right back.”

  Jack leaned forward, his concern obvious. “But you’re out for the rest of the season, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s just not right. That’s all there is to it.” He turned to Claire. “So. I’ll go home and wait for you there?” He picked up a napkin and jotted his address on it. “There are visitor parking spaces on the side of the building, and I’ll buzz you in.”

  They walked out into the sunshine together and Jack walked off toward his vehicle.

  “I can’t believe you actually know Jack Logan,” said Cam as he climbed into the passenger seat. “Only the best defenceman in the Western Conference.” He paused. “Maybe in the entire NHL.”

  Claire buckled her seat belt. “I know him as someone else, though. I know him as a charming guy from Saskatchewan who travels a lot and sells sporting equipment.”

  Cam laughed. “He does, sorta. He travels a lot and his endorsements sell a lot of equipment.” His smile faded. “Do you think you would have become involved with him if you’d known who he was?”

  Claire backed out of the parking space and managed to avoid looking at her brother. “I don’t know. There’s a lot of chemistry between us.”

  Cam was uncharacteristically quiet for a few moments. “Is it serious with you two?”

  “Cam! I don’t ask you about your private life.” She pulled out into traffic. “Come to think of it, you’ve never asked me anything like that before so there must be a reason. Why do you ask?”

  He seemed reluctant to answer. “Look, Claire. I don’t really know the guy, and he seems nice, but he’s known as being a player when it comes to the ladies.”

  She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He was blushing, a sure sign that he was uncomfortable with the subject.

  “You haven’t followed hockey that closely, so I don’t expect you’ve paid much attention, but he’s always being photographed with a babe on his arm. I just don’t want you to get hurt, okay?”

  Her heart sank a little at this information. Hadn’t Shelley, the woman at the coffee kiosk, mentioned a blonde? She almost missed the turn into Cam’s street. She remained silent until she pulled up in front of his condo, then turned to him.

  “That wasn’t exactly what I wanted to hear right now, but thanks for the warning.” She put on her brightest smile. “I’ll watch out for myself, okay?”

  “Okay.” He opened the door. “See you later, Sis.”

  Claire pulled into one of the Visitors stalls about fifteen minutes later and sat there, staring at the plantings alongside the building. She was torn in two directions, each equally compelling. On one side was the fact that he hadn’t been honest with her about who he was, and on the other was the intense physical attraction that had exploded between them from the moment they met. One thing was for sure: she wasn’t solving anything by sitting here. The least she could do was go up to his condo and hear what he had to say. She took a deep breath and pressed the button for his suite.

  “Come in, come in.” He stood back from the door and ushered her into the foyer.

  This was going to be harder than she thought. Just standing here next to him, her body was vibrating with desire. It was all she could do not to reach for him.

  He bent his knees and looked into her eyes. “We have a few things to clear up, don’t we?”

  She nodded.

  He showed her into the living area. The furniture suited him; it was large and masculine. She wandered over to the massive window overlooking the harbour. The view was unobstructed and she watched a float plane come in for a perfect landing.

  He came and stood beside her. “I’ve been thinking about how to explain this to you, Claire and I decided that the easiest way is to go back to when we met. You see, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who didn’t recognize me...if not immediately, then eventually. It was great getting to know you realizing that you hadn’t been influenced by all the hype that goes along with being a hockey player. I knew I wanted to see you again, but how could I explain being out of town so much? So I made up the story about selling sports equipment.” He sucked in a deep breath and then let it out. “I regret that most of all. That was an outright lie. As for the thing with the name...I really do think of myself as John.”

  His voice lowered. “Will you look at me, Claire?”

  She turned.

  “There is one thing I didn’t exaggerate, or lie about. And that’s the way I felt when we made love.” He ran a hand down her arm and pulled her against his chest. “That was magical, Claire. I’ve thought about little else ever since we parted yesterday.”

  She could feel his heart pounding. “Me too,” she said and raised her lips for a kiss.

  “Tell me you forgive me,” he whispered as his lips closed over hers.

  She gave herself over to the pleasure of his kiss. “I forgive you,” she murmured some time later. “Make love to me, Jack. I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

  “With pleasure.” He picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. Afternoon light streamed through the venetian blinds, throwing parallel shafts of light onto the bed. For the briefest of moments she pictured him with other women, and then banished the thought from her mind. She was here with him now, and that’s what counted.

  They made love urgently and afterward he collapsed onto the bed with a groan and pulled her against his chest. “After yesterday I didn’t think it could get any better. I was wrong.” He nuzzled her neck. “Do you have any idea how glad I am that I found you?”

  She ran a hand along the hard muscles of his hip and thigh. “I thought it was me who found you.”

  “Either way,” he said, and moved her hand between his legs. He was stirring again, and she stroked him languidly, watching as he became fully erect. He lifted her as though she weighed nothing and eased her down on his erection, his gaze holding hers the entire time. He filled her completely and they moved together in the timeless rhythm of love. Finally she could stand it no longer and broke eye contact, throwing her head back and gasping for breath as powerful sensations built within her. He stroked her at the core of her womanhood: once, twice, and she cried out, exploding in an orgasm sweeter and more intense than anything she’d ever experienced before. He followed her moments later, murmuring her name as they came back down to earth together.

  Talk wasn’t necessary in the afterglow of lovemaking. Claire explored his body with her fingertips, impressed at the extent of his muscle definition.

  “You have a beautiful body.” She said eventually. “You must work hard.”

  “This is the first free day we’ve had for a while.” He stroked her hair. “That’s where I had to go yesterday afternoon – to practice.”

  “You skate every day?”

  “Just about.” He was silent for a moment. “It will take Cam a while to get back in the groove when he comes back, but I would imagine he knows that.” He twisted in bed to look a
t her. “Are you two close?”

  Cam’s warning of earlier in the day came back to her but she shook it off. “We don’t live in each other’s pockets, but we’re always there for each other.”

  “That’s nice. Cassie and I are the same, even though we don’t see each other nearly enough.” He gave her a gentle squeeze. “I’m hungry, but I don’t even know what’s in the fridge. What say we go look?”

  They pulled on clothes and Claire opened the refrigerator door. “You weren’t kidding,” she said. “I suppose I could make grilled cheese sandwiches if you have any bread.”

  “That I have.”

  They assembled the sandwiches and Jack grilled them while Claire made tea. She wandered around the living room as the kettle boiled and paused by a shelf of pictures.

  “These are nice,” she said, bending over to look at the images. She picked one up. “This looks like some sort of ceremony.” She walked it over to him.

  “That’s the opening of the new skating rink back home in Little Coulee.”

  “Is that the name of your town? Little Coulee?”

  “Yeah.” He tapped the photo. “That’s the Mayor, and those other guys are some of the merchants in town, and some of the Kinsmen. It was a real community effort.”

  “You didn’t mention yourself.”

  He looked away, concentrated on the sandwiches. “I was part of it too.”

  There was something about the way he said it that made her wonder if there was more to the story than he was letting on. She replaced the photo and picked up another. “This is a sweet picture.” It was a photo of a boy taken from the back. He was sitting hunched over on a rugged bench, tying up his skates. In the background, a few children skated on a frozen pond.

  He touched the glass, as though trying to connect with the scene. “That’s me,” he said with a grin. “I still go back there sometimes and sit on that bench. When things get crazy in this job of mine, it helps to get my head straight.” He pointed to a small figure on the ice. “That’s Cassie, my sister. She’s a fierce one.”

  “Do you have any other pictures of her?”

  “No. She hates to have her picture taken.” He flipped the sandwiches.

  “Too bad. I saw one there that must be your Mom and Dad. They look like nice people.”

  “They are. The best.” He gestured toward a coffee table in the living room. “Let’s sit over there and eat. It’s much more comfortable.”

  She sat yoga position on the comfortable chesterfield and took a bite of her sandwich. “This is good,” she said, and took another bite. “I guess you don’t do much cooking.”

  “Not during the season.” His gaze drifted out over the North Shore mountains. “We’re leaving tonight.”

  “You are?”

  He seemed surprised. “I forget that you don’t follow us the way most people do. Conference finals begin tomorrow in San Jose.”

  “You fly tonight and play tomorrow? Isn’t that a tight schedule?”

  “Not really. Coach thought it was more important to let us have a day off.” He gave her a wry smile. “Most of the day, anyway. And the flight isn’t long.”

  “What time do you leave?” She was missing him already.

  He checked his watch. “In four hours. I’m already packed.”

  “I don’t know what to say. I’ll miss you.”

  He gave her a look that curled her toes. “Just keep on missing me. We come back late on Friday night after the second game.”

  “That won’t be hard.” She swallowed. “The missing you part.”

  “I’m not sure what our schedule’s going to look like when we get back. Depends on how well we do against San Jose, I suppose.”

  “You have my number.”

  “I’ll call you.” His gaze held hers. “You can count on it.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Where have you been?” Zoey sounded almost frantic. “I’ll been trying to reach you for days.”

  “I’ve told you a million times not to exaggerate.”

  Zoey laughed, but then she always laughed at this tired old joke. “Seriously, kiddo, where have you been?”

  Claire didn’t know where to start. Especially since she had an idea what her friend’s reaction was going to be. Might as well get it over.

  “Remember John, the fellow I told you I met?”

  “Mister Bouquet of Flowers?”

  “Yeah. Well it turns out that most people know him by Jack. It’s sort of another name for John.”

  “I know that! Get on with it.”

  “Well, it’s Jack Logan.”

  “Shut Up!!!”

  “No, really. He plays for the Canucks.”

  “I know that, you idiot. Everybody knows that.” There was a moment’s silence. “Is this some sort of a joke?”

  “No, Zoey. We saw each other on Monday and again yesterday. He even met Cam at the hospital.”

  “What was he doing at the hospital? He’s not sick, is he? No, never mind, he wouldn’t go to the hospital if he was sick. They have their own doctors. God, Claire. I just can’t believe it.”

  Claire laughed. “Believe it. I guess I’ll have to start paying attention to the games, huh?”

  “Only you could say something like that. What did he say about tonight’s game? Are the Canucks going to win?”

  “We didn’t really talk about the series that much. I just know they’re playing in San Jose.”

  “We’re going to have to get you up to speed on all of this.” She stopped abruptly. “Wait a minute. Back to what you said about seeing him at the hospital. What was he doing there? Is it something I can tell Randy about?”

  Claire paused. “I’d rather you didn’t. It’s something he’s been doing for a while now...visiting the childrens’ ward without a lot of fanfare. The people who work in the hospital know about it and they haven’t alerted the media, as the saying goes.”

  “I wish you hadn’t told me.”

  “Don’t ruin it for him, Zoey.”

  “It would be great for his image though.”

  Claire could almost hear her friend thinking.

  “Speaking of image. He has a bit of a reputation for being a ladies’ man.”

  “Cam told me about that.” She went on confidently. “But until I see signs to the contrary, I’m going to assume he’s on the up and up.”

  “I guess that’s fair. When do you see him again?”

  “Not sure, but it can’t be soon enough.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “That good.” A wave of longing swept through her; she was glad she was sitting down. “I’ve never known anyone like him, Zoey.”

  “Stop! You’re making me all teary-eyed. Gotta run. Talk to you later.”

  * * *

  The Canucks lost both games in San Jose. It was a tired and dejected group of athletes that boarded the aircraft late Friday night for the flight home.

  Jack took his usual seat across from Lars Nielsen and closed his eyes but he couldn’t sleep. Not even the thought of Claire could lift him out of the fog of misery that threatened to engulf him. It was the same after every loss, but to get this far in the playoffs and lose the first two games wasn’t a good sign.

  Lars leaned across the aisle. “Hey, Jack. That blogger is at it again. You should read this one, man.”

  “No thanks.” But the forward’s words stayed with him and he eventually dug out his laptop and called up the blog.

  He read it twice, anger oozing from every pore of his body. He may be in the middle of one of the most important playoffs of his life, but he had to respond to this idiot. He would find the time somehow, of that he was sure.

  * * *

  Claire grabbed the phone, noting that caller ID was blocked. Please let it be Jack. “Hello?”

  “Hi.” He let out a sigh. “How are you, Claire?”

  He didn’t sound like himself. “I’m fine. Are you all right, Jack? You sound different.”

  “Just tired
. And a bit disappointed.” He paused. “I’m not going to be able to see you for the next few days. We really have to focus.”

  “I understand. I wish there was something I could do.”

  “There is.” His voice dropped. “Just tell me you’ll be there when it’s all over.”

  “I’ll be here,” she said.

  “Good.” There was a moment’s silence. “Goodbye, Claire.”

  * * *

  Claire watched the game on Sunday night with Cam. Their father had somehow scored tickets to the game in the hope that Cam would go with him, but Cam wasn’t feeling up to the crowds and the noise.

  “I’ve got a bad feeling about this one.” Cam rose after the end of the second period, looking for something to eat. “Down 3-1. They’re not playing badly, it’s just that nothing’s going their way.”

  The Canucks lost and Claire waited to hear from Jack, but he didn’t call. Maybe it was just as well; she didn’t know what she could have said to make him feel better.

  The phone remained silent on Monday. Claire tried to work but it was difficult when every thought led her back to the man who had so quickly become the most important person in her life. Suddenly dating a hockey player didn’t seem so glamorous. She jumped at the chance to watch tomorrow night’s game with Zoey and Tony at the sports bar. At least she had something to look forward to.

  * * *

  The bar was more crowded than it had ever been. The air was thick with tension as Claire edged her way toward Tony and Zoey’s usual table.

  “Do you know how hard it was, saving this stool for you?” Zoey kicked it out from under the table. “Sit down and hang on to it for all you’re worth.”

  Claire did as she was told, aware that behind her on the big screen the game was starting. She couldn’t watch, but it wasn’t necessary. She could tell from the groans of the crowd every time the Canucks missed the net. The first period ended with no score.

  “How come you’re not watching?” Zoey motioned for more drinks, then turned back to Claire. “Jack was terrific.”

  “I’m so afraid he’ll get injured. I don’t think I could stand to watch that.”