Offside (56 page)

“You’re very welcome, sweetie.” Zach bent down as she held her arms open, biting his bottom lip as she looped her arms around his neck and gave him butterfly kisses. She was so delicate. So precious. It felt like she wanted something from him, and at that moment, there was nothing he wouldn’t give. He eased her back and kissed her forehead. “There’s another surprise though. One that even Mommy doesn’t know about. Ask Uncle Dean.”

“What?” Becky gave Richter an accusing look when he cleared his throat. “What surprise, Dean? I’d appreciate it if you’d run anything involving my daughter by me first and—”

“I understand that, Rebecca. But I knew you’d try to organize everything yourself if I let you in on my plans. And I wanted it to be enjoyable for you as well.” Richter held Becky’s gaze. “Can you trust me?”

Becky opened her mouth, glanced over at her brother, then closed it and nodded. “Of course.”

Zach hadn’t missed the hard look Landon had given her. As though to tell her Richter had more than earned her trust. Which brought back the very reason things had changed between Zach and Becky.

It didn’t matter what a person did to earn her trust. She couldn’t give it.

And he wasn’t sure they could continue together if that didn’t change.

* * * *

The look on Becky’s face when the entire team greeted Casey in the locker room was priceless. And Casey’s little scream was like off-key music to Scott’s ears. Not in a bad way either. He couldn’t stop grinning as she raced with the other kids around the room, pointing out players and quoting stats. She hugged Mason and had to be stopped by Becky when he pulled out a small gift for her as she spun around.

“Oh, Mr. Mason, I mean . . . Captain?” Casey glanced over at Richter, then continued when he nodded. She held up the silver chain with the hockey stick pendant. “It’s so cool! Can you put it on me?”

“Sure thing, doll face.” Mason took a knee, then clasped the necklace behind her neck. “Did you bring your skates?”

“Yeah, but—” She gaped at him. “I get to skate?
Here
?”

“Yep, but you better hurry. We only have the ice for an hour.” Mason straightened, turning to Becky as she moved closer, thanking him in a soft, overwhelmed whisper. “You’re welcome, sweetie, but we try to do something like this every year for the players and their families. Richter just changed the date so it would be on Casey’s special day.”

That was exactly the right thing to say. Becky seemed to relax as Zach went to help Casey put on her brand new skates. Scott was a little surprised when she slipped up to his side, gazing over at Zach and her daughter with longing in her eyes.

Rubbing his hand up and down the base of her spine, he spoke quietly. “He’s good with her, isn’t he?”

“Yes, but . . .” Becky took a deep breath and shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Not now. She’s happy. All that matters to her is what she has—not what she doesn’t.”

“That’s right. So maybe stop worrying so much, huh?”

Scott knew very well that wasn’t going to happen, but maybe she’d take a break from it for a little while at least. He stood by her as she watched over her daughter. Soaked in the smell of the ice coming from the door to the rink being opened and closed as players brought their children to the rink.

“Tracy! You came!” Zach straightened and held out his arms.

A tiny woman with long, dark brown hair ran up to Zach and hugged him. Beside her was a boy of about ten, who looked a lot like Zach. The woman looked like him too. His sister?

“I wasn’t sure I could get time off, but Mathew really wanted to see you, so I used some of my vacation time.” Tracy smiled as Zach ruffled the boy’s hair. She nodded to Casey. “I guess this is the birthday girl?” Her smile shifted slightly as Becky joined them. “And you’re Becky.”

“Yes. It’s nice to meet you.” Becky held out her hand, and after a brief pause, Tracy took it.

While his mother talked to Becky, Mathew wondered around the room, stopping close to Scott’s side. Scott looked to Zach for help when the kid cleared his throat, but Zach just smiled and helped Casey to her feet, leaving Becky with his sister and Scott with his nephew.

“Uh, Mr. Demyan?” Mathew shuffled his feet, pulling his hockey skates off his shoulder by the laces. “This is gonna sound lame, but I kinda need help.”

“It’s not lame, sport.” Scott laughed nervously, but he couldn’t make himself take the skates. Something with the consistency of a Brillo pad had lodged in his throat. Mathew was ten. Ten. Looking at the boy made him think of himself at ten.
Fuck, was I ever that young?
He felt a little sick and he couldn’t say why. “I . . . uh . . . never helped anyone put on skates. Maybe—”

A firm hand settled on his shoulder. Tim took the skates from Mathew. “I think I can help you out. Take a seat.”

Mathew gave Tim a grateful smile and dropped onto the bench in front of Carter’s stall. When Carter came over to chat the kid up, the boy’s eyes widened and he lost his ability to speak.

Finished with Mathew’s skates, Tim took the opportunity to draw Scott aside. “You need a minute. I don’t know what’s going on, but you’re fucking pale. Do you want me to call the doc?”

“No. I’m fine.” But Scott didn’t feel fine. His body was moving, but his mind was somewhere else. He got to the bathroom all right, but then his stomach had a fucking fit and he ended up on his knees, puking out his guts. A cold sweat covered him. He pressed his eyes shut, hands gripping the toilet seat as the last of his strength spewed out with dry heaves.

“I’m fine.” He choked back a sob, then laughed at himself.
What the fuck? Get a fucking grip, Demyan.

He was drowning. He struggled against a flood of images, shoving the heels of his hands against his eyelids to drive them out. His face was slick with tears. He could taste them on his lips. Dropped hard onto the tiled floor and leaned against the wall of the stall.

“Never. I was never that young.” His bottom lip quivered, but he kept shaking his head. “Never.”

T
he rink echoed with the joyous sound of the children’s light laughter mingling with the deeper laughter of the men. Landon had come out with Amia to show her off, then shocked Becky by laying his daughter in her arms so he could put on his skates and join in the fun. He moved very slowly and Dean hovered close to him as though unsure if his leg had healed well enough, but Landon simply grinned at him, taking one of Casey’s hands while Zach took the other. Casey had never worn hockey skates before and she was a little unsteady, but gained some confidence with the support of the two men.

Today was absolutely perfect. Exactly what my baby deserves.

Becky put her finger in Amia’s little hand, holding her niece close to her chest as she perched on the hard wood player’s bench. She glanced over as Silver sat beside her. The young woman had dark circles under her bloodshot, green eyes. There was tenderness in her eyes as she gazed down at her daughter, but when the thick, pink flannel blanket slipped off Amia’s little kicking legs, she moved as though to fix it, then dropped her hand.

“It gets a bit chilly down here; I don’t want her to—”

Nodding slowly, Becky fixed the blanket, tilting her head slightly as she studied Silver’s pale face. “Silver, sweetie, talk to me.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” Silver inched away, hugging herself. “I don’t know what anyone wants from me. I’m trying.”

“I know you are.” Becky cradled Amia in one arm and took Silver’s hand. “I just need you to know you’re not alone.”

Silver inhaled deeply, then inclined her head, a tight smile on her dry lips. “Thank you. I don’t deserve that with how nasty I’ve been to you. I really do appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

“You’re family.” Becky smiled as Silver leaned over, resting her head on Becky’s shoulder. She kissed the top of Silver’s head, then kept perfectly still as Silver freed her hand to touch Amia’s cheek. Amia’s made a little cooing sound.

“She’s so comfortable with you,” Silver said.

“She knows she has a lot of people who love her.” Becky lifted her head and searched out Casey on the ice. She frowned as Casey stood by Scott, taking shots at the net with her new stick. She couldn’t hear what Casey was saying, but she looked angry. Her face was red and she threw her stick down after missing the net. “Oh, boy. Can you take her,
chérie
? I need to see to my little angel.”

“Ah . . . yeah. I guess.” Silver held her breath as Becky placed Amia in her arms. When Amia didn’t wake, she seemed to relax a bit. “Go ahead. I’ll be fine.”

By the time Becky reached the door to the player’s bench, Zach was there, carrying Casey. Casey was crying, whispering sorry over and over.

“My head hurts, Mommy. And my throat hurts.” Casey covered her mouth and let out a dry cough. “I didn’t mean to be a brat.”

“Oh,
poupée
 . . .” Becky brushed Casey’s cheek with her fingertips. She was a little warm. “It’s okay. Let’s get you changed. Zach, would you mind . . . ?”

“I’ve got her.” Zach’s tone held some surprise, as though he’d expected her to take Casey from him. He gave Becky a hesitant smile, then carried Casey into the locker room. He knelt to take off Casey’s skates. “Do you want me to drive you to the hospital?”

Becky grinned. She had a feeling Zach would be just as bad as Landon if he took a permanent role in Casey’s life. Landon wanted to bring Amia to the hospital every time she got a little cranky. Thankfully, Dean had enough experience raising Jami to talk him down.

“No, but you can drive us home if you want. I’ll have Landon drop my car off later.”

“You sure?” Zach put his hand over Casey’s forehead as she let out another weak cough. “She has a fever.”

“Children get them sometimes. It’s probably just a cold—maybe the flu.” Becky crouched down in front of Casey. “Want me to make you some of my special chicken soup? It made you feel all better last time.”

Casey pouted. “I’m not hungry.” She wrinkled her nose and looked at Zach. “Maybe later, but only if Zach stays to have some too.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” Becky glanced at Zach, pleased when he nodded. He still seemed worried, but he’d feel better once Casey was tucked in her bed, resting peacefully. It warmed her heart to see how he reacted to her baby not feeling well. She had to be careful about letting him get too involved too quickly, but she wouldn’t worry about that now. Right now he needed to know Casey would be all right. And Casey would be happy to know he wanted to stick around.

That was all that mattered.

* * * *

That was . . . pretty easy. Zach combed his fingers through his hair—which badly needed to be shaved again. He felt awkward standing in Becky’s kitchen as she fixed them up some coffee. He had to admit, he’d panicked a bit when he’d realized Casey had a fever. Sure, Mathew had gotten sick before, but he was such a tough little kid. Casey was delicate. So tiny.

Becky had handled everything perfectly. She gave Casey a purple strip of medicine, tucked her into bed, then had him sit with the little girl while she fixed her a green tea with honey. He’d read her
The Hockey Sweater
—the other book from Ramos—and smoothed her sweat-soaked curls from her forehead. While Becky had set up the humidifier, Casey had asked Zach for a lullaby. He didn’t know any, so he sang her “Mama Said” by Metallica.

Any second, he’d expected Becky to tell him it wasn’t appropriate. But she’d simply taken a seat at the other side of the bed, holding Casey’s hand, and looking at him in a way that made him sing all the way to the end of the song. Even though Casey had fallen asleep. Even though there was really no reason for him to stay.

And yet . . . every reason.

“Zach, please sit down.” Becky put a heavy, black stoneware mug in front of him, then pulled a chair up close. “I have to tell you . . .”

Zach lowered into the chair, keeping his eyes on Becky’s as he took a sip of coffee. The uncertainty in her level gaze shifted his thoughts from how badly he’d handled her daughter being sick, back to the issues he had with the precious little girl’s mother. “Go ahead.”

“You don’t have to do any of this. Read to her, sing her lullabies. But when you do, I can’t help but think . . .” She dropped her gaze to the table. “It scares me how much I want this to continue. I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop. The first Dom I played with after my divorce wanted complete honesty too. I was very upfront with my expectations—which were that I had none. He knew I was a mother and that I wasn’t looking for a daddy for my daughter. That I wasn’t looking for a long-term relationship. I wanted to explore the other side of myself, but I was determined to keep my needs separate. I still am. I just don’t know how that works. I never thought I’d have to figure that out. But now . . .”

Zach rubbed his jaw, nodding slowly. “Is BDSM all we have, Becky?”

Things were going well. They were finally talking, and he felt good about where this was going. But her next words were like a solid kick straight to his guts.

“I don’t know . . . maybe.”

He refused to lose his temper. He refused to take it as an insult. She didn’t know . . . well, he’d wanted honesty, hadn’t he?

“Let me know when you do.” He set down his mug and pushed away from the table. She stood, shaking her head and looking like she wanted to say more, but he couldn’t listen. He couldn’t sit here and have her tell him he was nothing more than her Dom. Because he couldn’t be that to her. He held up one hand and shook his head. “Becky, your daughter is sick. We can have this discussion some other time. Maybe when I get back from the preseason road trip.”

“Zach, you’ll be gone for over a week!” She grabbed his arm. “Please don’t leave like this. Let me explain.”

“Not now.” He glanced down at her arm, his lips in a thin line. She let him go. “In a week, maybe you can clear things up for me, because at this point, I have no idea what else I can do. Training has me worn out and this—” he gestured from her to himself “—has me exhausted.”