Breakout (Gold Hockey Book 6)

by Elise Faber

  Kevin’s fear of Rebecca running off was unfounded. He’d tentatively mentioned the dates, and she’d glanced through her calendar, replying calmly, “Thursday is easier for me.”

  And Thursday it had become.

  His mom was cooking, and this was the first time he’d be seeing her apartment.

  She wouldn’t let him in to see it initially, refusing to let him past the door until she’d gotten it fixed up “just right.” And walking through her door Thursday night and seeing what she’d done with the place clued him in as to why.

  It was a blast from his past.

  The same furniture from his childhood, just less of it, and transplanted from Minnesota. It made his heart ache, the memories bloom to life. But it was in a good way, bittersweet but nice. Because even though this wasn’t home, his mother had still found a way to keep his father with them.

  His mom hugged him and murmured. “This okay?”

  “Perfect,” he said, hugging her back. “But you know you didn’t have to hold on to Dad’s old recliner.”

  She released him. “I like it.”

  “It’s falling apart,” he said. “I swear the last time I sat in it, a spring got way too cozy with my butt.”

  “I didn’t do it for you,” she said, turning to Rebecca and putting out her hand. “I’m Bernadette. Nice to meet you.”

  “Rebecca, and it’s so nice to meet you, too.” She glanced up a Kev. “Sometimes we hold on to stuff not because it’s functional, but because it’s important to keep those memories alive in our hearts.” A beat before she said softly, “It’s silly, but I have the air freshener from my parents’ car. I know it can’t possibly smell like anything anymore, but I swear when I hold it up to my nose, I can still smell that scent.”

  Kevin’s heart shattered, fucking shattered in his chest.

  His Rebecca, his locked-down, armor-clad woman who’d been so tough a nut to crack, had just willingly let them both in. Really, fucking deep.

  Knowing his mother couldn’t possibly understand the depth of what she just revealed, Kev kissed her temple and laced their fingers together. “I fucking love you,” he murmured.

  She leaned into his shoulder.

  “Where are your parents now, dear?” his mom asked, showing them into the living room. He sat on the couch, tugged Rebecca next to him when she stiffened.

  But then she blew out a breath and relaxed into him.

  “They both passed of cancer when I was in my early twenties.”

  Kev’s heart clenched. He hadn’t known that particular detail, and he knew that while they were new, while he understood Rebecca more than any other woman he’d ever known in his life, he could spend the rest of his life still discovering things about her.

  “Not hiding it on purpose,” she murmured. “We just never circled back to that particular conversation.”

  He nodded because he understood that, too. She was in with them now and she’d be all in, not one foot dipped into the deep end, the other safely on the edge of the pool.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” his mom said. “That must have been really hard.”

  Rebecca nodded. “It’s hard to lose people who are your world.”

  His mom froze, swallowing hard, and Kev brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “Yes. Yes, it is.”

  And then his woman, his tough but sweet woman, picked up his hand, kissed the back of it, and turned the conversation on its head. “Bernadette, did you hear that Kevin got offered a contract to model?”

  “What?” His mom’s eyes widened. “Really?”

  “Yup,” Rebecca said, grinning up at him because no fucking way was he going to model underwear. “For a certain very well-known underwear designer. They want to put a billboard up in Times Square.”

  “Times Square?” His mom clapped her hands together. “Oh my God, Kevin! That’s amazing.”

  He narrowed his eyes in Rebecca’s direction. She’d better not. She’d better—

  “It would be if he was going to do it,” she said with a sly smirk.

  Fuck’s sake. She’d done it.

  “What?” his mom said on a gasp. “I mean, I don’t need to see my boy in his skivvies, but how in the heck can you pass up that kind of opportunity—”

  “Mom.”

  “It might be a springboard—”

  “Mom.”

  “Who knows what other type of—”

  A timer buzzed, and thank fuck for that. “Dinner time,” he said, standing up and dragging them both to the dining room table. Thankfully, his mom was distracted with getting everything ready and dropped the underwear conversation.

  “So much trouble,” he murmured to Rebecca.

  “You’ll thank me for it later.

  “Not likely.”

  “I’ll owe you one if you do it.”

  Now that was something.

  Rebecca smiled up at him with sparkling eyes, took one look at his expression, and nodded. “You’ll do it.”

  He sighed because it was true.

  He’d do anything she asked of him. Even underwear modeling.

  “I love you,” she murmured. “Plus, this is good for your career and brand outside of hockey.” Kev knew that’s why she was pushing it, knew that oftentimes players’ careers were cut short and that these types of outside opportunities could be critical for their future security.

  He’d just hoped for pretty much anything outside of underwear modeling.

  He kissed her cheek and together the three of them bustled around the kitchen, carrying plates and bowls and too much food for just the three of them to the table. Then they sat down and ate and laughed and talked, and the two women in his life got along like houses on fire. So much so that he hardly got a word in edgewise.

  But that was fine.

  They were both having a great time, and that was what mattered.

  In fact, everything was going so smoothly that when the shit hit the fan, he wasn’t even in the room. He’d slipped off to the kitchen to get a head start on the dishes, keeping half an ear out for his name, when he heard the conversation lull to a halt and his mother ask,

  “Do you want kids, Rebecca?”

  Kev almost dropped the plate he was washing.

  Fuck.

  Silence.

  Then, “I’d love nothing more,” Rebecca said, and he set the plate down, started hustling back to the other room. “Especially with your wonderful son, but I can’t.”

  “Oh, honey,” his mom said. “I’m sorry to hear that. Are you—are you sure? You’re quite young.”

  More silence and he’d rounded the opening in time to see Rebecca’s face, the broken look in her eyes.

  “Mom—”

  “Unfortunately, I’m sure. I beat cancer as a teenager, but the treatments made it so I can’t have kids.” She stood, pushed back her chair. “Excuse me a moment.”

  He reached for her, but she dodged him with a shake of her head.

  A moment later, she was gone, the front door closing behind her.

  Nineteen

  Rebecca

  She reclined back against the wall of the apartment, taking deep breaths, wanting to keep running, to dash down to the street, pick up an Über, and get the fuck out of there.

  But Kevin. Kevin.

  And Bernadette.

  His mom was so wonderful, welcoming, and sweet with a wicked sense of humor. She’d had Rebecca in stitches several times throughout dinner, had included her in the conversation so readily that Rebecca felt as though they’d known each other for ages.

  Charming, just like her son.

  She plunked her head back against the wall.

  Sometimes it hurt less when she was closed down and alone, but the rest of the time with Kevin, with being open to the world was like a fucking drug, a high she hadn’t realized she’d been missing.

  And Bernadette made her realize how much she missed her mom.

  So even though every instinct in her body was telling her to run, to avoid t
he painful memories, she straightened, sucked in a deep breath, and pushed back into the apartment just in time to hear, “Are you sure, Kev? She’s beautiful and seems like a lovely woman, but the fact that she’s ten years older, along with the cancer, and then not being able to have kids. That’s . . . that’s a lot to take on.”

  Slice.

  Fucking hell that hurt.

  But she got it, wasn’t offended by Bernadette’s concern for her son.

  All of it was the truth.

  She was a risk, a big one, and she still wasn’t sure she would ever be able to reciprocate all of what Kevin gave her in kind.

  “Mom,” he said. “I’m going to tell you this once and then never again. I love her with every bit of my being, and I love her for so many reasons, but also partly because she said the exact same thing when I told her I was interested. Wouldn’t let me get close, thought I deserved more, deserved someone whole, who could give me kids and a risk-free life—”

  He stopped when she went came into the room.

  “But the truth is there is no risk-free life, and I’d rather have whatever time I can have with you then never have had you at all.” He came over to her. “I’m not letting you go, no matter how far you run.”

  Rebecca cupped his face in her hands. “I’m not running any longer, baby. But sometimes I might need a moment,” she said. “Because it still hurts that I can’t give you everything.”

  “You’ve already given me everything, love.”

  A sniff made her jump and spin around.

  “I’m sorry,” Bernadette murmured, wiping a finger under each eye.

  “I’m sorry I won’t be able to make you a grandma.”

  “Pish,” Bernadette said. “There are many ways to be a grandma. Just make my son happy”—she came over and cupped Rebecca’s cheeks—“make you happy and I’m not worried.”

  Her heart pounded in her chest, her throat beyond tight, and while she couldn’t manage words, she could nod.

  And then Bernadette hugged her tight and she remembered exactly how good it felt to have a mother’s hug.

  Two months later

  Christmas Gold-style was wild.

  A team dinner at Mike’s house, a potluck with way too much food and way too many pies . . . because apparently the only thing that single guys on the team could think of bringing was pies.

  As in multiple pies.

  So, they were up to twenty-two pies, and Nutritionist Rebecca was looking at them as though they were Satan’s spawn.

  She threw an arm around her friend’s shoulder. “Cheat day, remember?”

  “I remember, Bex,” she said or rather gritted. “Don’t have to like it, though.”

  “I’m glad you’re here,” Bex said and hugged her. “I—”

  She broke off with a squeal as Kevin picked her up and hauled her fireman’s style from the room. Brit burst out laughing, Rebecca finger waved, and Sara called, “The mistletoe is the other way.”

  Chuckles followed when Kev changed directions, carrying her down the hall and into Mike’s office. Sure enough, she saw when he set her on her feet, mistletoe was overhead.

  And he took advantage of that, kissing her senseless until she wobbled on her heels, and he had to crush her against him in order for her to find her footing.

  Which was fine.

  Because she rather liked being pressed against Kev’s chest, listening to his pounding heart slow.

  “I wanted to give you this,” he murmured after a few minutes. He set her away from him and dropped a small box into her hands.

  “My present for you is back at my apartment.”

  “This isn’t for Christmas,” he said, then shrugged. “Well, I guess it is, but it isn’t your Christmas present exactly. It’s . . .”

  He kept talking, but she wasn’t listening to him or not entirely, because she’d just realized what size box he’d given her. Ring-sized. A man who she loved with all her heart had just given her a ring-sized box and—

  “. . . should just open it.”

  She blinked, still processing the ring-sized box and what it might mean, what she hoped it might mean, when he opened it.

  Oh.

  “It’s a . . . key.”

  “To my place,” he said, smiling brightly. “We’ve been spending so much time at each other’s places, I thought that we should exchange keys.” He sucked in a breath. “Also, I’d like you to consider moving in with me. Or me you. Or—”

  Her heart started pounding again.

  Not a ring, but nearly as good.

  “My place is rent control.”

  He chuckled. “Then maybe I can finagle an invite into moving into your place?”

  She tapped her chin with one finger. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  Laughing, he kissed her lightly. “Always making me work for it.”

  “You know it.” She nipped his bottom lip. “Now, want to show me how that mistletoe works again?”

  “Definitely.” He wrapped an arm around her waist, picked up the box. “But maybe take the key out of the box first.”

  Rebecca lifted up the key, and her heart squeezed. A ring with a huge diamond was dangling on the end of it. “Holy—”

  Kevin dropped to one knee. “Maybe we can do the wedding thing, too?”

  She gasped, momentarily distracted from the shiny ring. “That was not your proposal.”

  “No, it wasn’t. This is.” He grinned, picked up her hand, kissed it. “Rebecca, I love you. You’re beautiful on the inside and out, you’re the strongest and smartest person I know, and you’ve made me feel like I’m living for the first time in my life.” Another kiss, this time to the inside of her wrist. “Every day, every moment, every heartbeat, I fall more in love with you. So I’m asking, pleading, begging that you’ll say yes when I ask you to marry me.”

  She nodded, fell into his arms when he stood. Tears dripped down her cheeks, and her heart was so freaking full.

  How was this her life?

  Kev slipped the ring from the keychain then slid it on her finger. “Kind of need the yes though, babe.”

  “Yes,” she gasped. “That’s so much fucking yes.”

  “God, I love you.” Kevin grinned, pulled her close, and then he showed her the meaning of mistletoe.

  Several times over.

  Epilogue

  Nutritionist Rebecca

  She’d been trying to slip by the happy couple without ruining the romantic moment Kevin had planned for Bex. But they were right by the front door and they’d see her if she moved forward.

  And the guys were behind her, along with the girls.

  All of whom were perfectly lovely people.

  But she’d reached her limit on socializing for the day.

  Thus her pinned-in position in the hall. She was desperate to be out of here, more than desperate to get back to her empty and quiet house, slip into her pajamas, and watch Hallmark movies through the night.

  God, life was so much simpler in Hallmark movies.

  Kevin jumped up and kissed Bex, and when it seemed as though they were fully distracted, Rebecca made her move, slipping past them on quiet feet and opening the front door.

  She’d just begun to close it quietly when a hand shot out and prevented it from shutting. Rebecca didn’t scream because Kev and Bex were still only feet away, but she also didn’t scream because her body already knew who it was. Her traitorous body, that was.

  Gabe pushed through the opening and quietly closed the door behind him.

  “You’re leaving,” he said.

  Nope. Not doing this.

  Ignoring him, Rebecca turned and started for her car. She’d purposely parked it so she wouldn’t be blocked in.

  Girl scout, she was. Always planning ahead.

  “Rebecca.”

  She kept walking.

  She might work with Gabe, but she sure as heck wasn’t on speaking terms with him. He’d dismissed her work, ignored her contribution to the team. He’d made her fe
el small and unimportant and—

  She kept walking.

  “Rebecca.”

  Not happening. Her car was in sight, thank fuck. She beeped the locks, reached for the handle.

  He caught her arm.

  “Baby—”

  “I am not your baby, and you don’t get to touch me.” She ripped herself free, started muttering as she reached for the handle of her car again. “You don’t even like me.”

  He stepped close, real close. Not touching her, not pushing the boundary she’d set, and yet he still got really freaking close. Her breath caught, her chin lifted, her pulse picked up. “That. Is. Where. You’re. Wrong.”

  She froze.

  “What?”

  His mouth dropped to her ear, still not touching, but near enough that she could feel his hot breath.

  “I like you, Rebecca. Too fucking much.”

  Then he turned and strode away.

  —Checked, coming March 29th, 2020. Preorder now.

  Gold Hockey Series

  Blocked

  Backhand

  Boarding

  Benched

  Breakaway

  Breakout

  Checked

  Gold Hockey

  Did you miss any of the Gold Hockey books?

  Find information about the full series here.

  Or keep reading for a sneak peek into each of the books below!

  Blocked

  Gold Hockey Book #1

  Get your copy at books2read.com/Blocked

  Brit

  The first question Brit always got when people found out she played ice hockey was “Do you have all of your teeth?”

  The second was “Do you, you know, look at the guys in the locker room?”

  The first she could deal with easily—flash a smile of her full set of chompers, no gaps in sight. The second was more problematic. Especially since it was typically accompanied by a smug smile or a coy wink.