by G. K. Brady
Crossing her arms, she took wary steps toward her desk and him. “I did. You?”
“Fantastic.” He cast his eyes on her plan. “Working on something new?”
“Yes, and as a matter of fact, I need to meet with my client in about thirty minutes.” She looked at her watch, though she was oblivious to the numbers on its face. Her nerve endings rippled with apprehension, and her stomach lurched. What did this man want?
“I won’t keep you. I was in the area and wanted to stop by, see how your holiday was, and wish you a Happy New Year.”
“Um, thank you. That was—”
A big man in an ivory beanie threw open the front door and pulled up short, his face puckered in a frown as his eyes bounced between them. She nearly dropped her jaw. “Dave?”
Rick held out his hand for a shake. “Don’t think we’ve officially met. I’m Agent Rick Clemente. And you’re Dave Grimson, I assume?”
Dave’s frown morphed into a question mark, then returned to a scowl as recognition seemed to dawn. “You’re the guy who gave Ellie a bad time about her van.” His hands remained firmly stuffed in his jacket pockets.
To his credit, Rick looked unruffled while he retracted the hand. “Yeah, an unfortunate misunderstanding. I’ve been trying to make it up to her ever since.” He slid Ellie a wink, and Dave’s scowl deepened.
“Agent Clemente was in the area and was nice enough to bring me a coffee.” No way am I going to call him “Rick” in front of Dave. “Which is perfect,” she babbled on, “because I needed another shot of caffeine for my meeting with Paige Miller, and if I don’t get going, I’ll be late. Not good to be late when someone’s about to turn over a boatload of business.” Both men stared at her as if she’d sprouted cat whiskers.
Now the back door whooshed open, and in stepped Felipe. Wide with surprise, his eyes scanned the three of them before landing on Agent Clemente. The two men, she could have sworn, exchanged a look.
Ellie began gathering up her things. “Gentlemen, I need to go. Felipe, you’ll lock up? Rick, thanks for the coffee.” Oh shit! So much for not calling him Rick.
Rick gave her an especially dazzling smile. “Anytime, Ellie.”
“I’ll walk you out,” Dave growled and placed a possessive hand on the small of her back while he threw another glower Rick’s way.
Ellie executed an inner eye-roll and headed out the back door for the Sienna.
“Here.” Dave slid the fob from her hand, opened the side door, and disencumbered her of her load, stowing it on the backseat—which was when she noticed his taped right hand.
“Are you all right?” she blurted. “When I didn’t hear—”
He took her jaw in his rough hands and kissed her hard. He ended the kiss as abruptly as he’d started it, his breaths shallowing, then kissed her all over again, more slowly this time and with a whole lot of heat, hunger, and tongue, as if he were laying claim to every inch of her mouth. When he broke the kiss, she opened her eyes slowly, a little dazed. He scanned her face and released her. “Why’s that guy in there?”
Huh? “I … He … I don’t know. He’s been coming around with coffees. Maybe he’s trying to figure out if I’m harboring undocumented workers or running some kind of smuggling ring. Or maybe he’s just being nice. What are you doing here? I thought you were home sleeping.”
He dragged his untaped hand over his beard and glanced away. “I was, but I have to be at the arena. I stopped by Sonoma’s and saw your van. Didn’t expect you to be here.”
“What’s going on with your hand? Did you hurt it again?”
His eyes remained focused elsewhere, his pulse twitched erratically in his neck, and he looked as though he were hundreds of miles away. Zoned out. Why is he acting so pissed off? For that matter, why is he acting so off? His injury and his past with PEDs suddenly collided in her brain, and her heart bottomed out. Is he using that crap again?
His gaze swung back to hers. “No, it’s fine,” he gritted out. “Will you be around later?”
She nodded. “I’m heading home after my meeting with Paige. Will I see you then?”
He gave her a quick head bob. “Better get going.”
As she drove away, she kept her eyes on the rearview mirror and the man she wasn’t sure she recognized. What the hell happened?
Chapter 35
Tug of War
Dave had been surprised to see Ellie’s van at her office when he’d stopped by Sonoma’s. Even more surprised when he walked into Ellie’s office and found the muscle-bound dude staring at her as though he wanted her for breakfast. And she was smiling back. What the fuck?
“Waiting for Sonoma?” a feminine voice asked, rattling him from his wallow. He hadn’t noticed Mandy approach as he stood beside Shear Indulgence’s back door, waiting for his cousin to arrive.
“Uh, yeah.”
She winked at him. “Well, come on in out of the cold. I’m sure she’ll be along any minute.”
Not knowing what else to say, he watched as she punched in a code and followed her inside, keeping his distance, before settling himself in Sonoma’s chair. Mandy deposited her stuff at her station, opened the front door, and threw him a salacious grin as she tied on her apron. “Nice fight last night.”
“Thanks.” He stifled the urge to wince because just the reminder made his hand throb that much more. It had grown steadily worse on the flight home, and by the time they’d landed, he hadn’t had the energy to deal with the concern he knew he’d find in Ellie’s eyes. So he’d headed to the town house instead, where it would be easier—more private—to hook up with Bobby. Bad idea. Had he been with Ellie, at least he’d have been able to put the pain aside and sleep. As it was, he was sleep-deprived on top of being pissed off because Bobby had postponed. Just a few more hours.
Mandy leaned a hip against the chair beside his. “I’d still like to buy you that drink sometime.”
Fuck! “Thanks. Uh, wish I could, but I’m seeing someone.” I think.
Her eyes narrowed. “Is it serious?”
Was it serious? No, it’s casual. No strings, no commitments. Which’ll make it easier to let her go once she finds out.
Mandy smirked. “If you have to think about it that hard, I’d say the answer’s no. And even if it isn’t, if you’re ever in the mood for something different, you know where to find me.” She wiggled dark, perfectly plucked eyebrows at him and smiled, reminding him of a sleek wolf.
“Sorry I’m late!” Thank God Sonoma burst through the door and saved his ass from having to come up with a comeback. Maybe she had the power to pick him up while she was at it and make him believe he was worthier than the pond scum he felt like.
Hours later, he sat on Ellie’s couch while she flitted around the living room. Flitted over eggshells because of him, most likely. He was battling the urge to push Ellie about Clemente. Deep down, he admitted she’d done nothing wrong. More to the point, he had no right.
Besides being all kinds of pissed off about the douchebag agent, Dave had spent the better part of the morning convincing his club and his agent that his hand was fine, and thankfully they’d bought his story. For now. It was up to him to keep up the façade until it healed. Worse than his hand, though, was the fact they’d kept Nelson behind in Minnesota last night for “observation.” And no one was talking about when he’d come home. Shit, that was bad!
He needed to call Nelson’s wife and see if she needed anything, but after the last twenty-four hours, he was fucking tired and wanted to go to sleep. In Ellie’s bed, not his own. But his own was where he was hoisting his mind to be when Finn showed up at Ellie’s front door.
“Hey!” A fist bump made Dave flinch, though Finn didn’t seem to notice. Soon the guy was parked in a chair across from him. “That fight last night? That was fucking amazing! The way you horsed that asshole and took him down was awesome!” Finn enthused. “How’s the hand?”
Glancing at said hand, Dave gave it a tiny flex and gritted his teeth. “Fine.�
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“I heard the douchebag might’ve broken Nelson’s jaw when he chopped him in the kisser. Looks like my favorite center might’ve also spit a chiclet or two.”
“My favorite center too,” Dave sighed. What Dave did know was they’d managed to re-plant Nelson’s tooth. He just hoped Nelson wasn’t out of the lineup long because the club needed him. Bad.
“Damn shame you didn’t knock out that fucker’s teeth when you hit him,” Finn lamented.
Dave didn’t bother telling him Douche didn’t have any front teeth to knock out.
Ellie appeared in the living room with sports drinks. “Will you be checking in with Gage today, Dave?”
The question made him bristle. “Why?”
A small crease divided her eyebrows. “Because he got hurt and he’s your teammate?” She paused a moment, seeming to organize her thoughts. “I can always call Lily and find out if you’re too uncomf—I had wanted to call her but didn’t want to step on your skates, as it were, since I’m not really part of … since it’s your team, your tribe.”
Finn’s eyes darted between them, and he took a quick swallow of his drink. He seemed to squirm where he sat.
Ellie’s innocent words, spoken haltingly as she obviously tried to navigate the murky waters of their whatever-it-was, had Dave pondering how hard this relationship shit was. Better if he could be left alone to lick his wounds. Literally. He wrestled these thoughts while simultaneously banishing the pain radiating from his hand and thinking about what waited for him back at the town house. Sweet relief, that’s what. In the meantime, he asked Ellie for a shot of whiskey, and she gave him a double and a questioning eyebrow.
A half hour later, he still hadn’t stirred, but Finn was gone. Why Dave was welded in place was beyond him. Ellie worked in the kitchen, and the TV in front of him flickered, though he had no clue what was on. A text chimed, and he relaxed a little when he read Nelson was on his way home. Broken jaw, grade-two concussion, uncertain return, but he was coming home, where his wife could take care of him, and family and friends would form a safety barrier around them all.
When Dave next became aware of his surroundings, he was prone on the couch, a pillow bunched under his head, a blanket thrown over him, and Casper licking his hand. The TV was still on, its volume a low buzz, and it was dark outside Ellie’s windows. Shit! How long had he been asleep? He sat up, and Casper’s entire back end wagged as if he were the best thing since dog treats. His neck was on fire, and he rolled it, popping it.
Small, strong hands were suddenly on him from behind, massaging his tight neck muscles. “Just relax,” Ellie whispered behind him.
“Where did you come from?” he asked.
“I was lurking in the shadows, of course,” she chuckled. “No, I was reading in the other room with Benny, and I heard Casper’s tail cleaning the carpet, so I surmised you were awake.”
“How long was I out?”
“Four or five hours.” Now her fingers were in his scalp, and he let out a low groan. Fuuuuck!
“Feel good?” Ellie asked.
“God, yes.”
“If you’re hungry, I have a batch of homemade black bean soup on the stove. Or I can whip up something else.”
Did I die and I’m in heaven now with my very own personal angel? As he relished the feel of her fingers digging into his tight knots, warmth flared and spread through him. A question bobbed and broke the surface of his mind. Did he really need to solve all his problems now? Couldn’t they wait until he was back on the road in a few days?
Dave managed to put what gnawed at him aside for at least that night in Ellie’s bed. And it wasn’t solely the mind-blanking effects of the lovemaking that had done it. When he’d fallen asleep, it was the comfort of holding her that had made it easy to drift. When he’d wakened several times during the night, it was her reassuring weight nestled against him that had allowed him to sink back into sweet sleep.
Driving through town the next day, he was contemplating getting a dog of his own with Ellie’s certificate when his phone rang. Herb’s name popped up, and he immediately answered. “Hey, Herb.”
“Are you sitting down, buttercup?”
Dave couldn’t decide whether to be excited or terrified. He drew in a sharp breath. “I’m driving, so yeah, I’m sitting.”
“If you’re driving, you’d better pull over. Colorado and Arizona have started their trade talks.”
Whoa. This is really happening. Dave pulled into a parking lot while Herb went on.
“Arizona has made it clear to me that if they get you, they’ll extend your contract another four years and add a no-trade clause. And they’re willing to pay forty-five mil.” He paused to sip something. “Since you’re driving, I’ll do the math for you. That’s eleven million, two hundred and fifty thousand a year.”
Holy shit! No wonder Herb had asked if he was seated. “Why would they do that? I’m thirty-two.”
“And an elite defenseman. Also a franchise player and a team captain. Guys like you aren’t on the market very often, and teams will pay. Look at the seven-year, sixty-one mil contract Vegas gave Petriangelo.”
By the time they hung up, Herb had Dave practically dancing in his seat. The first person he wanted to call and share the news with was Ellie. A mere moment later, he realized he couldn’t. Not only was it not a done deal, but he’d have to figure out how best to frame it. His inner dancing feet stuttered to a stop as though he were dragging on a one-ton sled.
As he looked around the parking lot where he sat idling his engine, he realized he was on the outskirts of Nelson’s neighborhood—lots of his teammates lived there—and his heart sank. He should call, but Nelson wouldn’t want to hear from him. Maybe he could get an update from someone on the medical staff, not that he wanted to go anywhere near them and have them probing about his hand more than they had been.
Would management fill him in if he asked? A big negative there too. Quinn, then.
“What would I do if I were just a straight-up teammate who wasn’t carrying around all this damn baggage?” he thought aloud.
“You wouldn’t hesitate to call him,” Yoda replied. Only it sounded more like, “Call him, you would. Right thing to do, it is. Hmph.”
“Shut the fuck up, Yoda.”
Dave stewed on it a few beats before expelling a big sigh. Yoda was right, damn it. Dave punched a button on his steering wheel and held his breath.
“Hello?” a feminine voice answered.
“Lily?”
“Hi, Dave. I’m answering Gage’s calls because he’s hard to understand with his jaw wired shut. I still have a long way to go before I can interpret his grunts myself,” she laughed lightly.
Thank fuck! Not that the guy’s jaw was wired shut, but that Dave didn’t have to talk to his surly ass. Lily was the much more pleasant Nelson. “So how long do the doctors think it’ll take for the jaw to heal?”
“Months before it’s fully healed, though the wires will come off in a few weeks and he’ll probably be able to play before that, depending on how things go with the concussion.”
“Jesus, what a cluster-fuck. And now with you pregnant. Congratulations, by the way.” Dave had heard—from Ellie, who’d heard from Sarah—that Lily had just passed the three-month mark, and they were going public with the news. “Can I do anything for you?” he added.
“No. Except …”
“Except what?”
“He hasn’t been home that long, but I think Gage is already climbing the walls. Could you maybe stop by? Doesn’t have to be for long.”
Fuck. Dave pondered how uncomfortable that visit would be as he rummaged around his brain for an excuse to decline. “Has anyone from the team been to see him yet?”
“Not yet, but Quinn and T.J. promised to drop in before you guys go on the road again.”
Damn it. “If captain, you are,” Yoda grumped in his head, “responsibility you must take.”
Before he could stop him, Yoda was tellin
g Lily, “Sure. I happen to be about ten minutes away. Is now a good time?”
“That would be great!” She practically sang out her answer, she sounded so relieved.
“Can I bring him anything? Smoothies? Protein drinks?” What else could Nelson consume? “Booze? Warm Jell-O?”
“No, thanks. I think we’re squared away in the food and drink department.”
“All right. Call me if you think of anything.” He made a right turn and took his time heading toward Nelson’s place. Yeah, uncomfortable didn’t begin to cover what loomed.
Dave trailed Lily through a big-ass entry decked out in Christmas decorations into a wood-paneled room she called the “library.” More like a man cave for an ascot-wearing asshole from the hoity-toity set. Of which Nelson was neither. There were books and a desk but also a hell of a lot of hockey memorabilia. Perpendicular to the doorway where Lily and Dave stood, Gage sat on a cushy leather couch, his back to them as he faced a flat panel TV showing a car commercial. Daisy sat close by, reading to him from a book. Sounded like … Grimms’ Fairy Tales? On an opposite wall stood a stone fireplace flanked by floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out on a backyard that could have doubled as a park. As luxurious as the place was, it had that unmistakable feel of home. The Christmas decorations, the daughter, the pregnant wife. Nice life.
“Gage? Someone’s here to see you.” Lily’s soft voice had Nelson craning his head toward her with a smile lighting his eyes. The smile disappeared when those eyes landed on Dave.
Dave held up his hand in a clumsy wave. “How’s it going?”
Nelson grunted out a greeting between clenched teeth and turned back to the TV.
“Hi, Mr. Dave,” Daisy called.
“Hey, Daisy girl.” Such a cute kid.
Lily’s gaze bounced between Dave and Nelson. “Daisy sweetie, why don’t you come with me so the men can spend some time alone? Dave, if you want something to drink, there’s a stocked mini fridge built into that cabinet. Help yourself.” Lily pointed it out as Daisy joined her. The two pivoted, and the glass double doors closed behind them.
