On the Fly (16 page)

I doubted Kesler would be taking any
more runs at our stars anytime soon, too…not after
tonight.

We had been lucky that Jens hadn’t
been hurt too bad. He’d gone off to be checked out by Doc for a few
minutes, but he’d returned to the bench no worse for wear other
than a few new stitches on his pretty face.

Fighting is just part of the game,
something that happens in the heat of the moment. If I wanted to
keep my spot, I had to be willing to play that role
sometimes.

Once Babs had gone inside our
apartment and shut the door, I took a step toward
Rachel.

It was just one step, but I probably
shouldn’t have taken it. She retreated through her doorway almost
immediately, but I was surprised that she didn’t close the door in
my face. I really didn’t get what was going on. If she was afraid
of me, if she thought I would do something to hurt her or her kids,
she should have locked me out—but all she was doing now was
retreating.

Should I go in? Or should I wait out
in the hall? If she was like my sister, if she had panic attacks
and that sort of thing, then I should keep my distance. But was she
like Dana? I didn’t think so. Not with how she’d let me carry her
around, how she’d allowed me to hold her on my lap. There was a
part of her that at least wanted to trust me, even if she couldn’t
fully allow herself to do so.

I moved to the threshold and looked in
just in time to see her walking gingerly back from the kitchen, a
baggie of ice in her hand.

“
Put this on your cheek,”
she said in a tone devoid of life. She kept her voice down, like
she was trying not to wake her kids.

I’d already iced my cheek and a few
other nagging aches after the game, but I took the baggie and held
it to the spot where Kesler had gotten his single good blow
in.

“
Thanks,” I said, trying to
match my volume to hers. “If you don’t want me to carry you to the
sofa, you should go sit down now.” I would have picked her up
already if not for the fear in her eyes.

A small frown tugged at the corners of
her lips, but she turned around and headed that way. I closed her
front door and followed, sitting next to her but leaving her a
little space. I’d learned with my sister that space is necessary
when fear is involved.

I readjusted the baggie so the ice fit
more comfortably against the contours of my face now that it had
melted a little bit from the heat of my skin. She didn’t move a
muscle, her back straight and rigid, not leaning against the
cushions or relaxing in any manner.

The voice on the TV caught my
attention. I looked up to see highlights of tonight’s game, with
the Storm’s play-by-play man recapping what had happened. Had she
watched the game? I’d had a good night, all things considered. We
all had. We’d beaten the Canucks by a final score of four to two,
and I had been involved—either directly or indirectly—in three of
our four goals.

I couldn’t think of anything she might
have seen in the game to bring on this newfound fear in her. It
didn’t make any sense. “You want to tell me why you’re scared of me
all of a sudden?”

She looked away, staring at the
television, but I doubted she was actually seeing anything on it.
Her lips moved, but if she said something, I couldn’t hear her. It
was no more than a whisper.

“
What was that?” I
prodded.

Her eyes shot over to meet mine, full
of accusation. “Why did you fight that man?”

This was about my fight? I’d come
across people who didn’t like the fighting in hockey before, who
didn’t watch because they thought it was too violent. Most people
were the opposite. They got into watching it because of the fights.
Hell, I’d had three puck bunnies throwing themselves at me at
dinner tonight after the game, just because I’d dropped my gloves
in the heat of the moment.

If Rachel was going to react like this
over a single fight, what on earth was she doing working for a
hockey team?

I shrugged, giving myself an extra
moment or two to determine how best to answer her. “It’s just part
of the game. We fight to keep everyone honest.” Fighting is part of
the culture of hockey players—there are referees calling penalties,
but it’s really the players who make sure no one steps over the
line. The refs can’t see everything that happens, and if a guy
makes a hit like Kesler did tonight, we want to be sure that he
knows we’re not going to let things like that slide.

“
Fighting is part of
hockey?” She sounded dumbfounded. “What does fighting have to do
with scoring goals? And I have no idea what you mean about keeping
people honest, but it seems like poor sportsmanship to
me.”

Now it was starting to make a little
more sense. “You’ve never watched hockey before, have
you?”

She shook her head. “I doubt I ever
will again if there really is much fighting. I don’t want my kids
to see that.”

“
They didn’t see it—Tuck
and Maddie?”

“
No. They’d just gone to
bed.”

That was probably for the best.
Particularly since she didn’t know enough about the game to be able
to explain it to them.

“
Tomorrow night,” I said
before I could think it through. “There’s a Portland Winterhawks
game. Let me take you and the kids. I can try to explain things a
little so you understand it.” The Winterhawks were a major junior
team that played at the Moda Center sometimes, just like we did.
Taking her to a game, explaining how hockey works—all of that would
give me an excuse to spend more time with her. I was starting to
like being with her, except for now, with her backing away from me
like she was. I reached over to take her hand, but she jerked
away.

“
I don’t know if I want
that.”

“
You don’t want to watch a
game with me?”

Her gaze passed over the hand I’d been
reaching for her with. “I don’t know if I want any of it. I don’t
know who you are—how you can be so gentle with me and carry me
around and try to take care of me, but at the same time how you can
be the man who was trying to beat up another hockey player. I don’t
know if I want to understand.”

“
Then why were you waiting
up for me? Why did you give me an ice pack and let me come
inside?”

Her mouth fell open, but she looked up
at me. “I don’t know. But it’s a school night. The kids can’t be
out—”

“
It’s not the kids being up
too late that has you so worked up,” I interrupted her. If I let
her push me away with those halfhearted excuses, not with the real
reasons behind her fears, we’d never get anywhere. I set my baggie
on the coffee table and slid closer to her. She didn’t back away
this time. “When I’m playing, it’s just a game,” I said. “It’s just
my job. The things I do on the ice—that’s not who I am.” I reached
for her again, and this time she let me take her hand. It was so
tiny in mine. Everything about her was small. Delicate, but with a
surprising strength resting beneath the surface. I watched the rise
and fall of her chest, felt the frantic pulse in her wrist beating
against mine. “I’m exactly who you think I am.”

“
I’m not sure what I can
believe anymore,” she whispered. “I don’t know who I can
trust.”

“
I’m not going to hurt
you.”

“
It’s not me I’m worried
about.”

That much was clear, considering how
she hovered over Maddie and Tuck. I pulled her closer, lifted her
onto my lap. The breaths lifting her chest grew faster and warmed
my neck. I splayed one hand over her rib cage, stopped myself from
anything more intimate than that. “I’m not going to hurt your kids,
either.”

“
I don’t think you will,
but I’ve been wrong before.” Her voice hitched over the
words.

“
Who hurt them?” I raised
my hand, used the pad of my thumb to brush over her cheek, and then
guided my fingers through her riotous tangle of curls. I wanted her
to trust me. I wanted her to believe that she and her kids were
safe with me. I wanted to kiss away all the tension and fear
keeping her from letting me in.

But she shook her head. Closed me out.
Kept her secrets. Refused to unburden herself.

It hurt, like it had when my sister
had stopped letting Dad and me hug her, like when she’d kept us at
arm’s distance because she couldn’t stop her panic from setting in.
All we’d wanted to do was hold her, love her, chase away her
demons. But no one can fight off those kinds of demons for you.
It’s something you have to do yourself.

Patience had never been a virtue I
possessed, but it was exactly what Rachel needed. I’d have to find
some, or I’d run her off—and I wanted to keep her close.

So I didn’t push. I allowed her to
keep me at a distance emotionally. There would be no other way to
gain her trust.

I didn’t stop myself from leaning down
and placing a kiss on her temple, though. A breath fluttered from
her lips, a whispered sigh that made me want more.

I wrapped both arms around her, pulled
her close to me, and held on until she relaxed. She let her head
fall against my chest. I didn’t want to move, didn’t want to break
that moment, so we stayed that way as long as I thought I could
handle without losing the tight rein I held over my
self-control.

She had to work in the morning, and I
had to go to practice. Eventually, I forced myself to stand up and
carry her to the door.

“
Lock the door behind me,”
I said as I set her on her feet. “I’ll take you to work tomorrow,
and we can talk more about the Winterhawks game then.” Her head
moved slightly against my chest, a silent acknowledgment, I
supposed. I headed out into the hallway. I didn’t really want to
leave—every bone in my body wanted to stay with her—but I knew I
had to go. She wasn’t ready for more.

“
Brenden?” she said softly
behind me.

I stopped and turned back, foolishly
hopeful that she would ask me to stay even though there was no
chance in hell that would happen.

“
I’m not scared of you,”
she said slowly, each word measured and cautious, “and that’s what
scares me.”

She’d finally given me something I
could work with. Thank God.

As I made
my way upstairs to Jim’s office to pick up Rachel
the next evening, I was still a little surprised she’d given in and
agreed to let me take her and the kids to the Winterhawks game.
Babs and I had picked Maddie and Tuck up from their after-school
program before heading back to the practice facility. She hadn’t
been too keen on the idea of us getting the kids without her, but
it made more sense to already have them with us. That way we could
get Rachel from work and go straight to dinner before the game. I’d
tried to make her see the logic of it all, and when that failed,
Babs had sweet-talked her. The kid could charm the toque off an
Eskimo if he wanted to.

Babs had one of Tuck’s hands in his,
and Maddie had the other. Tuck’s giggles were getting out of
control, but it was impossible to be annoyed by it. He stopped on
each step, refusing to move up to the next one, thereby forcing
Babs and Maddie to lift his weight and swing him upward. Maddie
wasn’t a ton of help on that score, but at least Babs didn’t seem
to mind.