Charlotte immediately regretted what she had said, worried about pouring salt into his wounds. But then he laughed, and she couldn't help but look up at him and smile.
"You could just stay here tonight. If you want."
"I probably shouldn't," he replied. "I'm not in the best shape to, you know, stay with you."
She smiled coyly. "I promise I'll keep my hands to myself," she said. "Plus, you know how comfortable my bed is and you need some rest."
"I do."
"Then go to bed, captain. You've had a long day."
He raised a questioning eyebrow in her direction. "You're not coming?"
"I'll be right there. I just need to lock up and turn off the lights."
He nodded and kissed the back of her hand before gingerly heading to her bedroom. She could tell he was trying to hide how much pain he really was in, but she didn't feel like calling him out on it. Instead, she checked the locks and started flipping light switches off. There was also a quick trip to the kitchen to make sure she had an ice pack in her freezer for him.
The light was still on in her bedroom with Jordan's clothes and his new fedora neatly piled on her chair in the corner. The man himself was fast asleep in her bed, passed out on his back in only his boxer briefs and an ace bandage wrapped tightly around his chest. Charlotte quietly walked over and pulled up the blankets to cover him, trying to be as gentle as possible so she wouldn't wake him or hurt him. Instead, he only let out an exhaustive snore in appreciation. Turning out the light, she gently lay down in the bed and turned to look at Jordan slumbering next to her.
Jordan once again looked like he was comfortable in her bed, like he belonged there. Because despite their fight and despite their secrets, Charlotte knew there was at least one truth: Jordan King belonged with her.
The smell of coffee in the morning.
She missed quite a few things about Jordan during their time apart, some more salacious than others, but waking up to the smell of coffee from her kitchen was one of the more innocent things she had looked forward to. It was the little things that really made her feel secure and cared for in a relationship. With Jordan, that meant a coffee mug on the counter.
But while the mug was waiting for her in the kitchen, Jordan wasn't. Then Charlotte heard a newspaper rustling in the living room. He was still there after all. She poured herself some coffee and walked quietly over to see him sitting on her sofa staring intently at the crossword puzzle lying on his lap, writing another answer in with his pen.
"I hope you didn't touch my sports section."
He looked up and smiled warmly as she walked towards him. "Why's that?"
"I want my chili cheese fries."
The Lafayette Coney Island was known for giving out free chili cheese fries to anyone who cut out a copy of the box score from the newspaper when a Pirate scored a hat trick. After Jordan's stellar performance the night before, she was determined to get her fries.
"Who told you about that?" Jordan asked.
"Aiden."
He laughed. "Of course it was Aiden. Should I be worried about how much time the two of you are spending together?"
"Aiden has made it clear many times that he's not friends with girls because they have cooties."
"But you're the exception?" he replied skeptically.
She smiled. "I have an extra seat for him so he ignores mine."
Jordan gave her a wordless "Ah," along with a nod and went back to his crossword puzzle as Charlotte made her way to a spot next to him on the sofa. She gently snuggled herself into his side, letting his left arm pull her close as he put the paper on the arm of her sofa to fill out another answer.
But she could tell he was thinking about something because his pen had stilled over the paper. She noticed when he got really focused, it would be dancing above the page, ghosting his answers into the boxes before he finalized them. But he was distracted this morning.
"Something's bothering you," she said.
He took a deep breath and leaned forward, pulling his arm away as he set the puzzle and pen on her coffee table. Leaning his elbows on his knees, Jordan looked back at her with a more solemn face than what she was expecting.
"I just..." He turned to stare at his hands clasped in front of him. "Can you tell me about Declan?"
Charlotte inhaled deeply and set her coffee down next to his crossword. "What would you like to know?"
He looked up and gave her a crooked smile. "Was he always an asshole or is this some recent development?"
She laughed slightly. "Not a recent development." Jordan nodded in understanding, willing her to go on. "When I dated him, he was nice, I guess, but that's probably because I ignored the signs that he was cheating on me."
"You never suspected anything?"
She shrugged. "I just didn't want to think that about him."
"What changed?"
"I caught him screwing some woman in the equipment room at the arena."
He sneered. "Yeah, that sounds like him."
Charlotte gave him a reassuring smile. "Anyway, he had a pair of skates delivered to my place to make up for it. Didn't work, of course, but they were nice skates so, you know, I got that out of the relationship."
Jordan stared at her intently before reaching out and grabbing her hand. "Remind me to get you some new skates."
"Don't worry about it," she said reassuringly. "I broke in those skates and I don't use them that often now anyway so—"
"Charlotte." Jordan squeezed her hand tightly. "I will get you a new pair of skates."
She tried to swallow down the emotion threatening to break free. "They're just skates."
"They're not just skates."
Jordan knew. He just knew. Those skates represented who she was then, not who she was now, and the fact that he understood that made her realize how important it was for him to at least do that for her.
"Thank you," Charlotte said quietly.
"You can thank me when I put those new skates your feet.
"Well, the thank you is for more than that," she said.
"What else is it for?" Jordan asked.
"Thank you for knocking on my door last night."
He leaned over and smiled. "Thank you for not holding my bruised ego against me."
"And thank you for punching Declan."
Jordan groaned. "The fallout from that was awful!"
"Yeah, it was."
"Although to be fair," he said, his face suddenly perking up. "I did enjoy punching him."
She grabbed his arm and laughed. "I've wanted to do that for so long!" she yelled. "Tell me it was amazing."
"It was glorious!"
"I knew it!" she said, throwing two fists in the air in triumph.
He leaning in to kiss her on her forehead. "More coffee?"
"Yeah."
She handed him her coffee mug and followed him into kitchen, leaning on the counter as she watched him refill her mug. Yep, he definitely looked comfortable in her place. It also helped that his shirt was tight, his muscles underneath it were lean, and he moved around her kitchen like he lived there.
But despite the distraction, something was still bugging her. Something she had wanted to ask him ever since that game in New York.
"Hey, just out of curiosity, what did Declan say to you out on the ice that night?" she asked. "You know, before you punched him?"
Jordan gently put the coffee pot back on the counter and stared at it intently, his jaw clenching from the memory. "I'd rather not say."
"Why not?" she asked quietly.
He looked up at her, his eyes almost dark and bitter from the memory. "I have a thick skin, Charlotte. I can handle whatever chirps players want to throw at me. But I will never tolerate someone talking about you the way he did that game."
He stood there, staring at her intently, waiting for her response to this serious declaration for her, but she couldn't help the smile on her face.
"So you punched him for me."
"Ye
ah, I guess I did," he replied with a grin.
Charlotte walked over and kissed him, first gently and then harder as his lips yielded to her. Of all the romantic gestures she had been on the receiving end of over the years, Jordan standing in her kitchen officially declaring he punched her ex-boyfriend to defend her honor immediately topped the list.
Her hands began to trace the muscles under his shirt, wandering over his chest, which caused Jordan to groan in pain and frustration.
"Charlie, while I do enjoy where your mind is headed, my body can't handle extracurricular activities right now."
Charlotte just let her hands wander farther down instead. "You don't have to be that active, but you deserve a token of gratitude, and I indeed to give it to you."
Her hands grabbed the waist of his pants, earning a groan of pleasure from her captain as she made her intentions very clear. Charlotte saw the dark desire in Jordan's eyes before sinking to her knees in front of him with his pants pooled around his ankles.
As he pulled his Land Rover out of the parking lot, Jordan's phone started ringing and the screen on his dash read "Charlotte." He suspected she had probably picked up her newspaper by now and realized that he had done exactly what she had told him not to.
"Hey, Charlie!"
"There's a hole in my newspaper," she said in mocking anger. "You took my chili cheese fries."
He laughed. "Charlotte, I scored a hat trick last night. Someone gave me their fedora! I earned those damn fries."
"You're lucky I love you."
His car was filled with silence, but that was only because he was trying to control the emotions he was feeling, thankful that he hadn't pulled out of her parking lot yet when she said it to him. Jordan could easily imagine Charlotte's face as she stood slack-jawed in her apartment. Hell, he could practically hear her over thinking what she had just said.
He should put her out of her misery.
"Charlie?"
"Hm?" She was trying to sound casual and it totally wasn't working at all.
"I love you too."
Jordan could hear the breath of relief from her, and he was glad she had accidentally done this over the phone so she couldn't see the goofy grin plastered on his face.
"So listen," he said, clearing his throat as he changed the subject to something less emotional. "We didn't discuss dinner plans for tonight."
"Because my plans were stolen from my newspaper," she replied teasingly.
"Well, then would you want to go to Coney Island with me?"
"I definitely would," she said. "But you're sharing your fries."
"I wouldn't have it any other way."
Epilogue
She had always heard that champagne stings if it gets in your eyes, but she never experienced it herself until now. Alex Orlov was having quite the drunken night chasing around ice girls and spraying them down. Unfortunately, Charlotte got caught in the crossfire.
Her precious Pirate booty, rumored to be have been smuggled in from across the border, was thankfully still well protected in her pocket as she blindly wove her way through the crowd of people squeezed into the locker room. Things weren't much better once she finally got out to the hall. She thought she was special having a "Friends and Family Pass" around her neck, but the team apparently had given them out to anyone and everyone — family, friends, hangers-on, media, random attractive people, and pets. Yes, pets. One of the player's girlfriend was walking around with her little dog in her purse, and they both looked like they were having a great time.
But Charlotte kept pushing through the crowd with determination, heading to the place where Jordan had taken his brother to get a bit of quiet time. Quiet, of course, being a relative term. She found the two of them sitting on the ice, leaning up against the boards with cheap beers in their hands.
"Hi, boys," she said, leaning over from the home team's bench to look down on the brothers. "Can I join you for a second?"
Jordan looked back up at her, a huge smile plastered on his face. "You are the most beautiful woman I've ever known."
Charlotte laughed and rolled her eyes. "I'll take that as a 'yes' since you're obviously drunk already."
"To be fair, I just won the cup."
"Touché." She swung her legs over the boards and sunk down on the ice next to the King brothers. Her hand slid into her back pocket and she pulled out two miraculously dry Cuban cigars. "Some player's dad brought these in from Canada for you guys."
Jordan smiled and stood up, handing both to his brother. That's when Charlotte noticed he still hadn't taken off his uniform. Even his skates were still on despite the fact that the game ended more than an hour ago.
"Ethan, I shall return shortly! Hold my beer," he said, handing the bottle to his brother. He took Charlotte's hand to pull her up and then placed it into the crook of his elbow. "Come with me, Charlie."
Charlotte smiled and started walking gingerly on the ice, holding tightly to Jordan to keep her from falling before they made their way to the bench. "Where exactly are you taking me, captain?"
"You'll see."
He ducked into a door on their left, still far enough away from the people crowding the hallway to the locker room. The equipment room. She'd been in one of these before under bad circumstances. But tonight, that image of her ex-boyfriend that had been seared into her brain was a passing memory. She had a much better boyfriend to focus on now.
"So why exactly are we here?" she asked.
Jordan leaned down, towering over her in his skates. "To make out with you, of course."
He pushed Charlotte against the wall and kissed her passionately. His lips tasted like the most delicious cheap beer she could ever imagine, and she told herself to remember this. He would taste this way for the next few days at least, and she was going to enjoy every moment of it.
Then he pulled away abruptly, a flirtatious smile teasing his lips. "I also have something for you."
"The kiss wasn't enough?"
He simply smiled and pulled her towards a stack of shelves in the back lined with padded hockey pants, extra skate blades and other hockey gear.
"Ah, here they are," he said, pulling a box down from the shelf. It was black with the name of his equipment sponsor on it and a picture of their newest hockey skate. Jordan bowed slightly and presented them to her. "For you, darling."
Charlotte started to reach for the box and then froze, her hand hanging in mid-air.
"What are those?" she asked seriously.
"They're your new skates."
He tucking them under his arm as he took her hand and led her to the workbench where the players often prepared their sticks for games. He set the skates down on the bench, then grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her up on it.
"It's only fitting that I take a turn or two out on the winning ice with my girl." Jordan smiled up at her as he gently took her black boot off and pulled the new skates out of the box. "My rep at the company said they've been using some new materials so you won't even have to break these in like you did with your old ones."
He gently grabbed her foot and tied her skate for her before doing the same for the other one. Charlotte wasn't about to protest. Frankly, she wasn't able to say anything. She could feel the lump in her throat growing as he took care of the skates. Her skates. He was so sincere about it, so tender that she couldn't help it. They meant something to her, something important, but they meant something important to him as well.
Jordan looked up at her, his face becoming more serious.
"Do you like them?" he asked tentatively.
Charlotte could only nod before grabbing his jersey and pulling him close. Her lips tenderly covered his as her hands moved to his cheeks, scratching at his extra scruffy playoff beard. Now that the playoffs were over, he would likely shave, and she would miss the feeling of that beard tickling her bare skin late at night in her bed.
She pulled away slightly, her forehead resting on his, trying to catch her breath. "I love the skates, Jordan.
"
"Good." His hands drifted to her hips again as he gently set her down. "How do those feel now? Are they tight enough?"
"They're perfect."
"Wait until you actually skate with them," Jordan said, a mischievous look teasing his lips.
He was right. They were even more perfect on the ice as he took her hand and led her around the rink, the cool air rushing past her. It reminded her of the night the two of them skated alone together on this same ice. Things had changed quite a bit from that moment a few months ago and she was truly thankful for that, despite some of the bumps along the way. It reminded her that this move to Detroit was the best decision she could have made.
"Watch out for the camera cables," Jordan said from his place beside her. "And look out for the confetti. And don't trip over Ethan!"
That one was reserved specifically for the moment they passed the older King brother, smiling from the spot they had left him on the ice as he took pictures of Jordan.
She could feel the breeze moving through her hair with Jordan becoming quiet as the whole thing started to become more real to him.
"I won the cup, Charlotte," he said quietly.
She pulled herself closer and tightened her grip on his hand. "You did a great job, Jordan."
He nodded and swallowed hard, trying to control the emotion she was sure were threatening to break out of him.
"So listen," he said, clearing his throat before continuing. "Some of the guys on the team are going to get their girlfriends and wives rings to match ours. I wanted to get one for you if that's OK."
"Me?"
"Yeah. It's not like, you know, like that kind of ring—"
"I wasn't assuming it was," she interrupted reassuringly.
She knew he wasn't ready for something like that and she definitely wasn't ready for it either. Not just yet. He smiled at her, letting her know that he understood exactly what she was thinking.
"I just wanted to find a way to say thank you for supporting me."
Charlotte gave him a dejected smile. "What about having my ex-boyfriend punch you?"
Jordan laughed. "It wasn't the worst thing, you know," he said, leaning closer to her. "It was a good reminder that I have to fight for what I want."
For the Captain (The Detroit Pirates Book 1) Page 15
