Icing On The Date (The Bannister Brothers #1) (18 page)

“Look, Gabby, you’re thinking about this the wrong way. Nobody is trying to
pimp
you out or buy you off. I can’t believe we’re even talking about this. Owen is a good-looking guy—most women would be begging for the chance to go out on a few dates with him.”

“I guess I’m not like
most
women.”

“No, obviously not.” He sighed. “Listen, can’t you just continue to see him through the end of season? We’ve got the playoffs coming up, and we might still have a chance at the Cup in May.”

Was he joking?
Hadn’t he heard a word she’d said? “You want me to pretend to date him until May? Are you serious?”

Harvey held up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, maybe May is asking too much. Could we bargain for another month at least? How about we start with a few more weeks then we revisit this conversation? And the exhibition game this afternoon. It’s really important that he shows up and looks happy today. And that you’re there to support him. It would go a long way to helping make up some of the damage of last night’s loss.”

She’d forgotten about the exhibition game. Owen had invited her to come, but with everything that had happened last night with Justin and the fight, it had slipped her mind.

Besides that, they’d broken up. Or broken it off. Or whatever you say when you stop seeing someone. “I’m sure Owen will be there, but I can’t go. My brother is in the hospital, and Owen and I broke things off last night. After the way he walked out, I’m sure he’s not even going to want me there. My presence is not going to help anything.”

“I think you’re wrong about that.”

“I think you’re over-estimating my importance in Owen’s eyes.” She looked around the crowded bakery. “Listen, Mr. Skaggs—Harvey—I can’t help you. But I’ve got a store full of customers that I
can
help, and I need to get back to running my business. I’m sorry.”

She stood up from the table and gestured to his empty cup. “I can have Leah get you some more coffee, but our business is through. I appreciate you coming in. Good luck.”

Turning, she escaped into the kitchen of the bakery. She didn’t have time to deal with this, she had work to do. And her heart couldn’t take another blow by thinking about Owen using her the last few weeks to improve his freaking image.

Tamping down her anger and frustration, she pushed her shoulders back, stood up straight and took care of business.
Her
business.

She’d figure out this business with Owen Bannister later. Right now she needed to finish the cupcakes and get back to the hospital.

Chapter Sixteen

Owen threw his hockey gear in the back of the truck and slammed the rear door. Anger and sadness churned in his stomach as he thought about Gabby.

He’d come home from the hospital and found traces of her all over his house. The empty wine glass on the counter, the ice cream bowl next to the bed, the rumpled sheets, the pillow that still carried the scent of her hair.

He’d blown it. He knew he would. Eventually. He just didn’t think it would be this soon. He thought he would have a little more time with her before he did something stupid, and she figured out what an idiot he was.

Sliding into the front seat, he started the engine and slammed his fist against the steering wheel. Damn it. Why had he let her in? Let her into his heart?

He’d been doing just fine before he met her—dating women that only cared about the publicity and the status of being seen on his arm. And that was okay with him—everybody knew what to expect and nobody got hurt that way.

Especially him. He thought he was a pretty tough guy—he could take a punch, get knocked around—his body could take it, but he hadn’t known just how fragile his stupid heart was until Gabby had broken it.

Backing out of the garage, he headed for the game, his mind racing with scenarios of what he should have done. What he should have said.

She’d been upset about him being so quick to fight, yet he hadn’t put up a fight at all when she’d said they were through. Last night in the parking lot, she’d asked him to let it go—had begged him to just walk away. But should he have just walked away from her?

Wasn’t she the one thing that was worth fighting for?

***

Gabby hurried down the hall of the hospital. It had taken her longer to finish up at the shop than she’d planned. She’d hoped to be back before lunch. Sneaking a glance at her watch, she was surprised to see it was almost two.

The exhibition game started at two. She’d told Owen she’d be there. But that was before. Before she’d seen the dark side of him. Before she’d found out that he’d only been using her to boost his public image.

She imagined him skating out on the ice to the excited roar of his fans. Her new friends, Tiffany and Ashley (with the perfectly groomed eyebrows) were probably in the front row, hoping to get a glimpse of him and high-fiving each other that they were right, she couldn’t really nab a guy like Owen Bannister.

Her breath hitched in her throat. She wouldn’t cry. That was his life. The ice, the fans, the press, the game. He was where he needed to be.

She stepped into Justin’s room and gasped. Evidently he
wasn’t
where he was supposed to be.

Owen sat in the recliner at the foot of her brother’s bed, paging through a magazine while Justin slept.

“What are you doing here?”

He looked up, and she couldn’t breathe. His eyes were so blue, so filled with hurt. He gazed at her for a second—a second that stretched out to an hour—then he turned his gaze to Justin. “Where else would I be?”

She couldn’t speak, the emotion closing her throat. How could he be here?

“I knew you’d have to go in to the bakery, so I’ve been hanging out with your brother.”

She took a breath and cleared her throat. “I mean, what are you doing
here
?
Now? It’s almost two. You’re supposed to be at the exhibition game.”

He stood and crossed the room. “The game doesn’t matter. You do. I need you, Gabby. I need you in my life.”

His words—so close to the ones his team publicist had spoken—stung.

She took a small step back.

He was so tall. So solid. She wanted to throw her arms around him, lay her head against his chest. Forget the fight. Forget everything except being in his arms again. But she couldn’t. Too much had happened. Too much had been said.

She squared her jaw and glared up at him. “Do you? What for? To improve your public image? To help you look better in the eyes of the press and your fans?”

This time he stepped back—pulled away like she’d physically slapped him. Then he hung his head, his chin dipping toward his chest. “Okay, I deserve that.”

He deserved a lot more. “Harvey stopped by the bakery this morning. He told me how much the team needed me. Needed my help to continue this charade of you spending time with me to better your image.”

“Gabby, it’s not like that.”

“Oh, really? What about the charity ball? Was that your idea? Did you really get the tickets to that?”

“No, Harvey did. He asked me to go. And to take you. I didn’t want to. Didn’t want to get you involved. I didn’t want you to feel like you were being used.”

“Too late.”

He stepped forward again, closing the distance between them to only a foot. “It wasn’t my idea to go, but I was damn sure glad that I did. I had a great time with you.”

“At least you appeared to, in front of the press.”

He shook his head. “I get that you’re mad. You have every right to be. That was a jerk move on my part to let Harvey talk me into taking you the ball for good PR. But regardless of why I took you, I was glad I did. I had a great time with you. And there was no press after the dance, when we were alone in your apartment. That wasn’t for the benefit of anyone but us.”

Images of that night filled her head. Dancing with him—his arms around her—laughing with him, kissing him. Stabs of pain shot through her heart.

She wanted to believe him, but how could she? “How can I believe you? How do I know that I wasn’t just the girl of the night? The lucky woman that got to spend the night with Owen Bannister—Mr. Playboy?”

“Because I’m not Mr. Playboy with you. Hell, I’m not Mr. Playboy with anyone. That’s just some stupid crap the press came up with and the public believes about me.” He picked up her hand and entwined his fingers with hers. “Because I let you in, Gabby—let you see the real me. You weren’t just some girl to me. You
aren’t
just some girl. You’re
the
girl. The girl that I can’t stop thinking about. The girl I want in my life.”

He gazed down at her, and she wanted to trust him. Wanted to believe that what he was saying was true.

“Then why did you walk away last night? Why did you walk away without a fight?”

He huffed out a harsh breath. “Are you serious? Now you
want
me to fight? You told me you didn’t want to see me anymore because I fought too much. What the hell do you want from me, Gabby?”

What did she want?

It was hard to express. All of her emotions were swirling and churning in her stomach. She knew she wanted him. And it wasn’t fair to expect him to fight for her if she wasn’t willing to at least try to save this herself. “I want you to fight for me. For us. I said I hate the violence. The fighting with other people. I hated watching you get in a fight with that guy at the bar last night.”

“You call that a fight?” Justin’s voice was groggy as he spoke from the hospital bed.

Gabby dropped Owen’s hand and rushed to her brother’s side. “Hey, Just. Are you okay? I thought you were asleep.”

He smiled up at her, but his lips were dry and cracked, and the split on one side gave his grin a crooked slant. “How can I sleep with you two yakking? And seriously Gabby, that little business with Owen last night was
not
a fight. It was a skirmish, at best.”

“What are you talking about? He broke that guy’s nose. I would call that a fight.”

Justin shook his head. “That guy broke two of my ribs. He and his buddies ambushed me and beat the shit out of me. That’s a fight. I’ve been listening to you have this same argument with Owen, last night and today, and you’re wrong, Sis. Owen wasn’t picking a fight last night just for the sake of fighting. Yeah, he does that sometimes during the game, but that’s different. That’s his job. Last night, he was protecting you.”

He reached out and picked up her hand. “I’m sorry, Gabby. I’m sorry that we had a shitty step-dad who used his fists to teach us lessons, but Owen’s not like that. You know that. I’ve seen lots of fights in my time, and that guy last night was a dirty fighter. That could have ended in the dirt with one or both of them going to the hospital. That guy had a knife. What Owen did last night was not a fight. He was in control. He hit that guy, then backed off. He didn’t tear into him with rage and go all crazy on him.”

She shook her head. “But he didn’t have to fight at all. I asked him to let it go and just walk away.”

“Seriously, Gabby? He couldn’t do that. That guy was threatening you. He was drunk and looking for trouble. Owen showed restraint. Yeah, he punched the guy, and broke his nose, but Owen’s a big dude, he’s strong. He could have torn that guy apart, and he didn’t. He did what he had to—to protect you—then he walked away. But he showed back up here today. He told me that he really cares about you, Sis.”

“All right,” Owen said, stepping up to Justin’s bed. “I appreciate the effort, but I can fight my own battles. And your sister
is
worth fighting for.” He gestured to the door. “If I can have her for a few minutes, I think we’re going to continue this in the hall.”

Justin nodded. “Thanks for coming to get me last night. And for keeping me company today. I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome. But I’d rather you not make it a habit.”

“Understood.”

Owen looked down at Gabby. “Will you let me fight for you? At least talk to you?”

She nodded. He took her hand and led her out the door and into the small waiting area across the hall from Justin’s room. She held tightly to his hand, feeling shaky and unsure as he turned to her.

Justin’s words echoed in her ears. Was she being too hard on Owen—projecting her feelings for her step-father onto him? Justin was right that Owen wasn’t anything like Ron. Her step-dad was moody, angry, sullen, and an alcoholic.

Owen was sweet, funny, and charming. He’d been thoughtful and caring and had treated her with nothing but respect. He’d bought her a dress and helped her with her business. He’d put on an apron and sprinkled cupcakes, for goodness sake. That had to say something about the guy.

He deserved her respect. She could at least hear him out—hear his side.

Reaching up, he slid his hand under her hair and cupped her neck. “Listen to me, please. This isn’t easy for me to say, but I need you to hear this. I’m a screw-up, Gabby. I screw up everything in my life. I know this about myself, and usually I just accept it. And so do most of the women I go out with. They don’t expect much from me, in fact, most of them kind of like my bad reputation. And honestly, I’ve never really cared enough or felt good enough about myself to want to do anything about it. Until I met you.”

She caught her breath, and her heart pounded against her chest. She knew this wasn’t easy for him to say, could tell by the pained look in his eyes.

“So, yeah, that first date was orchestrated by my publicist to help improve my image, and I probably shouldn’t have gone along with it. But I did, maybe because Harvey told me to and maybe because I wanted an excuse to see you again. To be with you.”

His words were spoken with such sweet sincerity, such bare honesty.

“Gabby, I like you.” He shook his head. “No, that’s not right.”

What the heck?
She pulled back. Now he was saying he
didn’t
actually like her?

Reaching his arm around her waist, he drew her to him, and gazed down into her eyes.

He took a deep breath before speaking. “I do like you. Of course I
like
you. But it’s more than that. Sometime between you teaching me how to frost cupcakes and us playing strip foosball last night, I fell in love with you. I know it seems a little crazy—it seems a little crazy to me, too. Like I barely know you. But I
do
know you. I feel like I’ve known you from the first time I met you. Even if I was drunk and a little influenced by the heady scent of chocolate frosting on your chest.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, and her heart melted at his words.

She tried to speak, but he put his fingers to her lips and leaned his forehead against hers. “Don’t say anything. Just let me get this out. I do know you, Gabby. I know you care about people, and you see the good in everything and everyone. But it’s more than that. I let you know me. The real me. The goofy idiot that laughs and jokes and messes everything up no matter how hard I try to get things right. I let you in. And you
liked
me. Flaws and all.”

He dipped his chin, grazing his lips against hers. “It might seem sudden to you, but it feels absolutely right to me. Every time I’m with you, I fall for you a little bit harder. I want to be with you all the time. When I’m not with you, I’m thinking about you. You’re the first person that makes me want to change—makes me want to be a better person. You’re the first thing that I’ve cared about more than hockey.”

Her heart raced. His words spun a spell around her, drawing her in. His lips were soft, his breath warm and minty, yet his body was hard and solid as she sunk into him. Everything he was saying, every word he spoke was exactly how she felt about him.