Between a Jock and a Hard Place: A Romance Novella (6 page)

* * *

Cam greeted her with a brotherly hug.
“I’ve got to get out of here,” he murmured in her ear. “Let’s talk about it
later.”

She gave him a squeeze and looked into
his eyes. They were still dull with residual pain, but she understood his need
to get back to his own place.

Over dinner the talk turned to hockey.

“Did you watch the game last night?” her
father asked.

“No, Dad. I was busy.” Doing her nails
and giving herself a facial, but she didn’t have to tell him that.

“Too bad. The Canucks won the
quarterfinals.” He looked at Cam. “But we knew they would.”

“Yeah. Jack Logan scored the winning
goal. It was a beautiful one-timer from the point.”

Claire tried to look interested. “So
what happens next?”

“Well, they’ll get some extra time off
and then they go on to the Western Conference Finals.”

Cam laughed. “You don’t really care
about this, do you?”

She chose her words carefully. “I always
enjoy watching you play, Cam. But I have to admit that the fighting and the bad
checks...like what happened to you...turn me off.”

“Hey.” Her father nudged her twin. “Tell
Claire about that article in the paper.” He turned to his daughter. “It’s on
the internet and everything.”

Cam rolled his eyes then turned to his
father. “It’s called a blog, Dad.”

Don Collins laughed. “Whatever. Tell
her, Cam.”

“Someone blogged in that West End
newspaper about my accident.”

“Damn right. And someone else responded
to it already.” He looked up as Claire’s mother cleared the dinner plates. “The
newspaper editor said to watch for more columns.”

“Did they use your name?” asked Claire.
Why had she asked that when she knew the blog word for word?

“No” he said with a frown, “but it was
fairly clear they were talking about me.” He tilted his head. “Doesn’t that
friend of yours work at the Phoenix?”

“Zoey? Yes, she’s Production Manager.”

He nodded. “Clever of them to start
blogging about hockey right in the playoff season.”

“Zoey says they know their stuff.”

“It’ll be interesting to see where it
goes.” Their father pushed away from the table. “I’m off to help Mother load
the dishwasher.”

Cam and Claire knew not to get in
between their parents when they loaded the dishwasher. They had been arguing
about how to do it ever since they could remember. For once, she was grateful,
as it gave her a chance to talk to her twin.

Cam spoke in a low voice. “I told them
I’m going back to my place tomorrow. You would have thought I’d said I was
going to the moon, the way they reacted.”

“They care about you, Cam.” She laid a
hand on his arm. “Although I know it must be stifling, staying here.”

“No kidding. Listen, I told them that
we’d already spoken and that you agreed to drive me to the hospital for my
MRIs. I hope you don’t mind; the doctor doesn’t want me to drive for a while
yet.”

“Are you still getting dizzy spells?”
This was worrying.

“Yeah, but they’ll eventually go away.
Last night watching the hockey game I was having a hard time keeping things in
focus. I didn’t tell Dad, though.”

“Of course I’ll take you for your MRIs.
I’ll take you anywhere you want to go. I can do your shopping and stuff like
that if you want me to.”

“No, don’t worry about that. There’s a
little market a couple of blocks away and the exercise will do me good. It’s
just the trip to the hospital I need help with ‘cause I shouldn’t be driving. I
have an appointment on Tuesday morning.”

“Come on, you two. Coffee and dessert in
the living room.” Another tradition. Claire gave Cam’s arm a quick squeeze and
got up.

It rained overnight, but the skies were
blue on Monday and butterflies had taken up residence in Claire’s stomach. She
couldn’t remember when she’d looked forward to a date this much, even though
she didn’t know what to expect. She dressed simply, choosing tight fitting
black slacks tucked into black knee-high boots. An emerald green turtle neck
was topped with a supple leather jacket in a rich tan colour. Small gold
earrings were her only jewellery and she pirouetted in front of the mirror,
admiring the effect.

She left the apartment before she could
change her mind and walked slowly along the seawall, soaking up the May
sunshine. On a day like today Hawaii seemed far away and totally unnecessary.
The snow had almost all disappeared from the North Shore mountains; only
pockets of gleaming white remained, mute reminders of the ski season long past.

She looked ahead and saw him. He had his
arms braced against the guardrail and was gazing out over the water. She’d
forgotten how tall he was. As though sensing her arrival, he turned, smiled,
and a fierce stab of desire left her light-headed and surprisingly breathless.
How could he do this to her with a mere smile? She floated the last few feet.

“Hello, Claire.” His voice drew her
closer and she went, willingly.

He leaned down and brushed his lips
against her cheek. “How are you?”

“Fine.” She wished he could kiss her
again. Properly this time.

“I can see that.” He smiled down into
her eyes and then took her hand, threading his fingers between hers. Her hand
disappeared into his. “Come with me.”

He led her through the parking lot and
opened the wire gate leading to the marina. The tide was high, making the ramp
easy to navigate.

She was dying to ask where they were
going, but managed to bite back the question.

“Just down here,” he said when they
levelled out on the dock. “My boat’s in the second to last slip on the right.”

He led her to the boat and stood aside.

“It’s a sailboat!” she cried, standing
back to admire it. “I don’t know much about sailboats, but it’s beautiful. How
long is it?”

He seemed pleased by her reaction. “It’s
a thirty-two footer. I didn’t know anything about sailboats either, coming from
Saskatchewan, but it has classic lines.”

She looked at her boots. “I’m not really
dressed for sailing.”

“Oh, we’re not going out.” He offered
her a hand. “Too much work. I thought we’d have lunch on board.” He gestured to
a small table set up in the stern. “Not a lot of space, but the weather’s nice
so we can try sitting outside.”

“It’s perfect.” She stepped unsteadily
on board and he caught her in his arms.

“It’s good to see you again, Claire.”

“You too.” She looked into those dark
blue eyes and her heart turned over. A breeze skipped across the water and blew
her hair into her face. He brushed it away but his fingers lingered in her hair
and suddenly he was kissing her with an intensity that took her breath away.

He pulled back, studying her reaction. 
“I’ve wanted to do that ever since I first laid eyes on you,” he said, brushing
a thumb over her bottom lip. “It was every bit as good as I dreamed it would
be.”

She stood there in the sunshine, her
senses reeling. “Me, too,” she said, stunned by the force of her reaction to
him. The boat rocked gently in the wake of a passing schooner but she scarcely
noticed.

“Would you like to see inside?”

She nodded and he held out a hand,
indicating that she should enter first.

“The companionway is narrow. Be
careful.” He was right behind her. “How is your ankle, by the way?”

She’d forgotten about it the moment she
saw him on the seawall. “Fine thanks.” She admired the interior. Rich teak
cabinets gleamed in the soft light. It was luxurious and masculine at the same
time. She looked up to find him watching her.

“Like it?” he asked softly.

“It’s...” she searched for the right
word. “It’s beautiful.”

He came closer. “You’re beautiful,
Claire.”

He slipped both hands around her waist
and held her loosely. “I have a proposition.”

She pulled back, startled.

He smiled down into her eyes. “Let’s go
slowly and see where this takes us, okay?” He gave a short laugh. “I can’t
believe I just said that!”

She was almost dizzy with relief. “I
agree.” She placed a hand flat against his chest. His heart was pounding in
time with hers. “There’s a spark between us John. I’d hate to see it flame out
because we rushed things.”

He cupped her face in his hands and
searched her eyes. “It’s not going to be easy, but you’re right.” He lowered
his head, and their breaths mingled. “I want you so much it’s painful, but I
just ended a relationship because it turned out I didn’t even know her.” He
sucked in a quick breath. “I don’t want that to happen again, especially with
you.” He closed the distance between them with a kiss that was surprisingly
gentle for such a big man. She moaned softly as his tongue traced her lips, and
she opened her eyes to see him watching her with an expression that snatched
her breath away.

Holding her gaze, his tongue probed
inside her mouth, unleashing a coil of heat deep in her belly.

“John,” she murmured, fighting for
control. “This go slow business isn’t going to work if you kiss me like that.”

“You’re right.” He dropped a kiss on
each eye and pulled back. “Let’s go back outside where we have to be good.
Besides, I want to see what’s for lunch.”

Claire wanted to grab his shirt and pull
him in for another kiss. But what they’d agreed made sense; neither of them
wanted to make another mistake. “You don’t know?” she asked, climbing the
stairs.

He followed her up. “No. I had something
sent over.” He motioned to an elegant picnic basket. Claire recognized it as
being from one of the upscale delis in the West End. “Let’s find out.”

They sat outside and munched on crisp
fried chicken, homemade macaroni and cheese and individual salads.

“That’s what I get for asking them to
send something casual,” he said, “but it’s good.” He eyed the thick, moist
brownies. “I’m being a good boy and cleaning up my plate so I can have
dessert.”

Claire laughed. “My mom used to say that
when we were kids.”

“Yeah, mine too.” His gaze drifted off
over the water. “My parents are great. They were always there for us kids. When
we were small, my dad used to let the hose run in the back yard as soon as it
got cold to make a surface to skate on.” He smiled at the memory. “We soon
outgrew that, and we’d skate on a frozen slough just outside of town when we
couldn’t get time in the rink. I was thinking about that the other day.”

“It rarely gets cold enough around here
for ponds to freeze.”

He wiped his fingers on one of the damp
towels that had been provided. “One of the advantages of growing up in
Saskatchewan, I guess.”

“Do you miss it?”

He thought for a moment. “Yes, and no.”
His gaze drifted out over the water and she could tell that his thoughts were
far away. “Like I told you, I played hockey when I was young and something
happened that changed me forever. I read a blog the other day that brought it
back. They were talking about violence in hockey today.”

He didn’t notice her startled
expression.

“We were playing a pickup game in the
old arena. We were all young; I was eleven at the time and bigger than most of
the other kids. I checked a player into the boards and he hit his head.”

His dark eyes were haunted. “He got a
concussion and didn’t play for the rest of the season.”

“But he recovered eventually, right?”

His expression was bleak. “I heard he
was okay, but that was second-hand information. His family moved to Ontario and
we lost contact with them. I’ve often wondered if he went back to playing
hockey.”

She laid a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry,
John. Do you go back to Saskatchewan very often?”

“Not as much as I should.” He gave her a
wry smile. “Too much travel, I guess.”

“Speaking of which, how did you make out
on the trip?”

He hesitated a moment. “I did fine.”

“What type of sports equipment are you
selling at this time of year?”

He looked uncomfortable. “They order
several seasons ahead. We’re showing winter sports equipment right now.” He
looked up at the sound of footsteps on the dock. A silver-haired man walked
between the boats.

“Hi Jack.” The man’s gaze rested on
Claire for a moment. “How’s everything?”

“Fine, Roy. We’re just having lunch.”

“Good day for it.” The man swung aboard
the adjoining boat and disappeared inside.

“My neighbour,” he said. “He’s a retired
stock broker.”

Claire looked after him. “Did he just
call you Jack?”

“Yeah, I guess he did.” He thought for a
moment. “Actually, most people call me Jack. It’s sort of a nickname for John.
You know, like JFK?”

She thought for a moment. “It just
startled me, that’s all.” She started to pack up the remains of the picnic.

“Here, let me help you with that.” He
reached for the empty salad containers and their fingers brushed. The jolt of
energy that passed between them was unmistakable.

 “I wish I didn’t have a meeting this
afternoon.” His voice was husky.

“Just as well,” she replied, but the
expression on her face said otherwise.

She helped him pack the trash in a
garbage bag and he locked up the boat. “What are you doing tomorrow?” he asked
as they returned to the car. “We could spend some time together, if you’re
free.”

She thought quickly. She had promised to
take Cam for an MRI in the morning, but her afternoon was free. “I’m busy in
the morning, but I should have things tied up by around noon.”

“Good.” He gave her a kiss that made her
question how long they’d be able to stick to their decision to go slowly. “I’ll
call you in the morning.”

* * *

Jack stood at the window of his condo
and looked out over the harbour. He could see the mast of his sailboat, nothing
more, but it was enough to raise his pulse rate. He’d never been this
restrained in a relationship before. He wanted Claire like crazy, but he’d been
surprised by the underlying feeling of tenderness he’d experienced when he
kissed her. He let out a long, slow breath and turned back to get changed. The
team had an afternoon skate today and he really didn’t feel like it. He’d much rather
be with Claire, getting to know her better.

On the familiar route to the arena he
faced the question he’d been avoiding ever since their first meeting. Why
hadn’t he told her who he was? He’d had the perfect opportunity just now, when
his neighbour had called him Jack.

He came to a stop and stared at the red
light without really seeing it. If he and Claire were to have a relationship,
and it looked like that was about to happen, then he had to be honest with her.
The cars beside him began to move and he took his foot off the brake. He’d have
to tell her tomorrow.

* * *

 “I’ll wait for you by the coffee kiosk
near the front door.” Claire dropped Cam off at the entrance nearest the
Imaging Department. “Come find me when you’re finished, okay?”

“Okay.” Cam still looked haggard. He’d
told her that he hadn’t been sleeping well in the single bed in their parents’
home, but that he’d fared much better last night in his own condo. His
condition worried her and she silently vowed to keep an eye on him.

She parked the car and grabbed her
laptop. She couldn’t speed up Cam’s healing, but she could ratchet up the heat
on her next blog. She grabbed a coffee and found a quiet corner where she could
work. She’d been composing the blog in her head for some time, and the words
flowed effortlessly from her mind to the screen.

Everyone is entitled to their opinions,
but there are some instances where expressing them in a public forum is
downright dangerous!

Take for example the rebuttal to my
original blog about violence in hockey. Who does this guy think he’s kidding? 
At least I assume it’s a guy.

Let’s stop tap dancing around and get
down to the real heart of the matter with some cold, hard facts. First of all,
the problems haven’t been solved, as the “pro-violence” blogger would have you
believe.

There were three untimely deaths of
former ‘enforcers’ this summer. Coincidence? I don’t think so. Informed doctors
believe that brain injuries suffered from concussion can induce depression.

While the NHL rejoices that their
biggest star has returned to hockey, they fail to mention the talented centre
who might never return, thanks to post-concussion symptoms. And how many people
have given a second thought to the player who has ten pieces of titanium
holding his face together?