On the Surface (In the Zone) (8 page)

Chapter Nine

It took a while for Tim to compose himself. Being in the pediatric ward was unsettling to say the least. It brought back a flood of memories he’d just as soon see buried, but he knew from personal experience that these kids needed any happy distraction they could get. It didn’t matter whether they were hockey fans or not, Tim did his best to make them smile and laugh. Plus, he didn’t want Erin thinking he was any more of a wimp than she already did. Hell, last season he’d played two periods with a sprained ankle. He could goddamn make nice with some sick kids after food poisoning.

She ended up escorting him through the ward and introducing him to her patients. She even gave him pointers beforehand so he’d have something to talk about with them. This boy liked video games. This little girl had three dogs, a cat and a lizard at home.

Eventually, his entourage dwindled down to Erin and Atwater. He figured Atwater probably would have left earlier too but didn’t trust Tim not to cause a scene somehow. Tim didn’t blame him.

At the end of the hall, they came to an unoccupied room with Barracuda stuff on the walls.

“Hey, whose room is this?” Tim asked.

“It’s Luke’s,” Erin told him.

Tim looked around at the newspaper clippings on the wall, a poster of the Barracudas and an empty bed. A Barracuda game schedule lay on the rolling tray table along with several issues of
The Hockey News
magazine. Tim flipped through the pages of an open three-ring binder and saw the kid planned to keep track of several stats for the upcoming season. The hit chart had columns labeled “Sissy,” “Tough” and “Brutal.” He wanted to keep track of penalties and fights as well. With the fights, he would be marking down duration, the players involved and who, if anyone, had won.

“Wow. This kid loves hockey,” Atwater said.

Tim had to agree. He walked over to the poster on the wall. It was a photograph of the ice surface in the Mesa Arena with the Barracuda logo in the center. On either side of the logo, Luke had collected a couple of scribbled signatures. Alex had put #11 next to his, but the other name he couldn’t identify.

“His mom told me he used to play, before he got too sick.”

“Is he any good?”

“I don’t know.” She straightened the covers on the bed.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“He has a bad heart.” She turned and smiled at him. “
Had
, actually. He’s getting a new one right now.”

“Heart transplant?” Atwater said. “Holy cow. That’s big.”

“Yeah, so he’s going to be sad he missed you.”

“Then I’ll just have to come back and visit him some other time,” Tim said.

With a soft gasp, Erin beamed at him, and he felt like she’d just given him a warm hug.

“In the meantime, do you think he’ll mind if I borrow this poster?”

She frowned. “Why?”

“I was thinking I could get the rest of the guys to autograph this for him.”

Erin hustled over. “Here, I’ll help you. He’ll absolutely flip if you get this thing signed. He’s honestly the sweetest kid you’ll ever meet.” She helped Tim pull the masking tape off the back of the poster. “And you know, you’re not so bad yourself,” she said as he rolled it up.

Warm hug number two.

Atwater left to find the men’s room as Tim pulled a blank sheet of paper from Luke’s notebook and wrote on it.
Luke
,
Nurse Erin said I could borrow your poster.
I’ll bring it back as soon as I can.
Get better quick so I can take you out on the ice and see what you’ve got.
Then he signed his name and taped the note in the empty space where the poster had been.

“Don’t write that if you don’t mean it,” Erin said. “He’ll be crushed if you don’t follow through.”

“What kind of a jerk do you think I am? I wouldn’t write something like that if I didn’t intend to follow through on it. The kid’s having open-heart surgery. He deserves something to look forward to.” He paused. “He
will
be able to play when he gets better, won’t he?”

“That’s the plan.”

He looked down at her and noticed she had a beauty mark on her right cheek. His eyes went from that to her mouth, then up to her eyes, then back to her mouth. She had one of those sharp indentations in the top lip—a something bow, they called it. God, he wanted to kiss that mouth, especially when her lips parted. The pediatric ward of a hospital probably wasn’t the most appropriate place, but it wasn’t like they were in the middle of the corridor.

He leaned closer into her personal space, and she didn’t back away.

At least, not until Atwater returned.

Tim chuckled at the man’s timing.
You snooze
,
you lose.
Although disappointed, he didn’t let it bother him. If Atwater hadn’t come back, he’d have had her in a lip-lock for sure. All he needed now was patience and opportunity.

* * *

After they’d visited all the kids, Tim got Erin’s address. (Score!) He was to pick her up after they’d both gotten a nap. When the alarm sounded, he felt groggy, but damned if a little fatigue was going to stop him from seeing Erin again.

He splashed water on his face, left the hotel and found a nearby sporting-goods store where he bought some swimming trunks. After picking up some sandwiches at a deli, he followed the SUV’s turn-by-turn directions to Erin’s place. She lived in a quiet community of small apartment buildings and single-family homes, built in maybe the seventies. Each house had its own personality. All of them boasted beautiful yards—lots of lush green grass, bright flowers and a variety of palm trees.

At the entrance to the complex, he punched in the number next to Erin’s name and she buzzed him in. The apartments opened onto a large courtyard with barbecues and seating with shade umbrellas. He saw her on the upper floor. She wore a butt-hugging pair of shorts, a loose open weave shirt and a bikini top underneath.

Twenty minutes later, they were at Rockaway Beach, a place Erin assured him was a local haunt most tourists didn’t know about. As promised, the crowd was minimal. He supposed with almost year-round nice weather, everyone didn’t have to go to the beach on the same day. As he looked at the kids playing in the surf, he was again reminded of Mollie. She’d loved the beach in Florida and had pitched a fit when they had to go. It didn’t matter that it was getting dark and way past her dinnertime. She wanted to stay and play in the sand forever. She’d woken him up at dawn the next morning, already dressed in her bathing suit, sunscreen bottle clutched in her hand.

Sighing, he pulled his gaze away from the happy kids and helped Erin set up the beach chairs and towels.

“So, what you’re doing for Luke, that’s really nice of you. It’s probably going to be a big hassle getting that thing signed by everybody.” She took out a tube of sunscreen and put some on her face.

“Can I have some of that?”

After squeezing a liberal amount into her hand, she gave him the tube.

“It won’t be that hard,” he said, applying the lotion to his own face. “I’ll tape it to the dressing room wall at practice and ask everyone to sign it before they leave. No big deal.”

“It’ll be a huge deal to Luke.”

Somewhat chagrined at how pale he was compared to her, he pulled his shirt off and spread the stuff over his arms and chest. He noticed with satisfaction that she seemed to be watching him. He worked hard on his physique and hoped he was scoring some points, sun-starved skin withstanding.

“I can, um, do your back for you, if you want.” Her cheeks were slightly pink.

“Thanks.”

Moments later, he felt her hands on his skin. She had a lighter, more hesitant touch than he expected from a nurse. He hoped it was because this time she was touching him as a woman, not as a health professional. He was sure as hell feeling it as a man. Fuck. She slid her palms over his shoulder blades, over his ribs to his lower back, spreading heat over his whole body, heat that had nothing to do with the California sun. His cock hardened in a matter of moments. Was she feeling the same simmering need, the need that had flared to life only hours before in his hotel room when he’d had her ass clutched in his hand? God, he hoped so.

“Okay, you’re all set,” she said in a neutral tone.

He cleared his throat. “You want me to do your back too?”

“Oh, sure,” she said. Her eyes darted to his and then away, like a hummingbird investigating a flower.

She presented her back to him and he took in as many details as he could. Her skin was flawless. He wanted to lick her and taste her, starting at the base of her neck and going all the way down to the twin dimples just above her bikini line. He wanted to wrap an arm around her and hold her so he could nip her shoulder and breathe in the coconut scent of her hair.

“You know, this is kind of porn flickish,” she said.

He chuckled and played dumb. “What do you mean?”

One of her shoulders lifted then fell. “You know. Sleazy girl asks all innocent-like, ‘Would you put sunscreen on me?’ Then the mustachioed muscle man, complies and oops! Her top comes untied.”

“And then they have wild monkey sex in twenty different positions like acrobats from Cirque du Soleil. I’ve seen that movie, or some version of it.”

“Monkeys are probably more interesting to watch,” she said.

He capped the sunscreen tube with reluctance. There was a limit to how long he could pretend there were spots he hadn’t reached yet.

Changing the subject, he asked her how long she’d lived in San Diego, and as they ate the sandwiches he’d bought, they talked about the places he’d lived. Having been born and bred in California, she envied his many travel opportunities. He pointed out most of his travel was limited to the U.S. and Canada which led to a discussion about places they wanted to visit someday. On his list were Costa Rica, Australia, Japan and Peru. She wanted to see all the major European cities. They’d both been to Hawaii and planned to return.

Eventually, they stretched out on the towels and dozed off in the sun. When Tim woke, a few clouds had moved in, making it much cooler. He rolled on his side to see Erin asleep again. Her dark lashes rested on her cheeks and a smile curved her lips. Unable to help himself, he leaned over and kissed her lightly on the mouth, once, twice.

Her eyes opened slowly and she focused on his face and her expression was part confusion, part uncertainty. He kissed her again with a little more intent. She kissed him back. Despite the clammy chill in the air, he felt warm. More than warm. She wrapped an arm around his neck. He slid his behind her back and pulled her closer. She tasted so good, a little salty, a little sweet. He felt her small breasts against his chest, and the thought of cupping one of them sent a surge of desire to his already hard cock.

Just as he parted her lips with his tongue and was about to go in deep, someone said, “Get a room!” as they walked past.

Erin stiffened in his arms and broke the kiss. She touched her lips and smiled apologetically.

“We better go,” she said. “It’s getting cold.”

Chapter Ten

On the ride back to her house, he realized this was the most relaxed he’d been in months. Being traded, needing to prove that he still had what it took, moving to a new city—he’d forgotten about all that for a few hours all because of Erin. He wanted to see her again and when they got to her apartment, he carried the beach gear up the stairs.

“You can just leave that stuff there,” she said, pointing to the wall next to her apartment door.

When he put everything down, she said, “I had a lot of fun today.”

“I did too.” He tried to read her mood. “You know, I got you breakfast and lunch. Why don’t we go for a hat trick, and you let me take you to dinner too? We could go to your favorite hole in the wall.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Don’t you eat dinner?”

She laughed. “Of course I eat dinner, I just don’t... I think you’re moving too fast.”

Taking off her hat and placing it on the duffel, he shook his head. “That’s not moving fast. This is moving fast.”

Before she could respond, he slid a hand around the back of her neck and bent his head to kiss her. At the beach he’d taken it nice and slow, mostly because she’d just woken up. Now, he took up where they’d left off. No preamble. No coaxing. When she opened her mouth under his, he slid his tongue inside. He also used his body to crowd her against the door while sliding a hand over her hip and down her thigh and back up again to settle at her waist. She moaned and gave him back as much as she got. She grabbed his ass and he got hard thinking about the possibility of having sex with her tonight. He gave himself a thirty-percent chance. Not the greatest odds, but better than zero.

He broke the kiss to nuzzle her ear and she gave a ragged gasp.
Mental note:
Erin’s ears are sensitive.
He wondered what other spots on her body were sensitive. He hoped her breasts were. He was a breast man through and through. It didn’t matter what size or shape they were, if they had big nipples or small, whether they were pointy, pouty or proud. He basically hadn’t met a breast he didn’t like.

He used his teeth on her earlobe and she grabbed the sides of his shirt and arched against him.

That was more like it.

* * *

Erin had made out on the beach before. What California girl hadn’t? She usually didn’t like it. Too windy. Too sticky. Too clammy. And afterward, sand in places that sand was never meant to be. But somehow, she had forgotten all about that with Tim. The moment she’d realized he was kissing her, desire flowed like liquid fire through her body to smolder between her legs. He’d been so incredibly, literally hot. She’d wanted to bundle herself right up against his big, warm body or better yet, let him cover her up completely. But that was a dangerous position to be in, especially with him. She’d never felt so turned on so fast. What was that line from
Bridesmaids?
She wanted to climb him like a tree, especially when she felt a sizable branch against her stomach.

But God, that would be so skanky. The last thing she wanted was to be labeled as a hockey groupie, and if she slept with him one day after standing in line for his autograph, that’s exactly what she’d be.

However, to give Tim the benefit of the doubt, maybe he was a truly nice guy and this was just a regular date to him. They’d go on more dates and get to know each other, etc., etc., etc. If so, then fantastic, but the only way to find out was to not sleep with him right away, even if every cell in her body wanted to strip naked and rub against him until the angels sang. Even if her imagination had already had a field day picturing him naked. Even if she had every right to use him for her personal pleasure and kick him to the curb afterward because, damn it, this was the twenty-first century!

No. She didn’t sleep with men just to scratch an itch. She didn’t think less of anyone who did. Women had as much of a right to recreational sex as men did, but over time, she’d discovered it wasn’t for her. She’d tried it and hadn’t liked it. She’d hated the morning-after awkwardness and uncertainty, and no matter how much she told herself it was just sex, no big deal and she didn’t have to love the guy, it didn’t really ring true. She’d since come to terms with the fact that if she was going to have sex, she had to feel some sort of an emotional connection with her partner.

So she’d established a Three-Week Minimum Before Sleeping with a Guy Rule. After some trial and error, she’d found that was the ideal amount of time to require celibacy from someone new. Since then, she’d never felt uncomfortable after sex, and she wanted to keep it that way.

Gathering every ounce of willpower she possessed, she pulled away, gasping. “Tim, stop.”

“Why?” He continued kissing her neck, maintaining that excruciating level of sexual anticipation. “We’re just getting started.”

She twisted away as she caught a twitch of the curtains in the window of the neighbor across the courtyard. “No, we’re not. We’re just finishing. I’m going inside. Alone.”

“Aw,” he said as she put a hand on his chest and pushed him back.

“Believe it or not, I don’t screw around with men within twenty-four hours of meeting them.” Shoot, she really sounded like a prude, but he’d either take it or leave it.

“Come on, it’s been at least twenty-eight.” He flashed her that adorable, aw-shucks grin.

She chuckled as she pulled out her key. “That may be true, but I have a three-week-minimum rule. No exceptions.”

His grin wavered. He looked like a kid who’d been told the school year had been extended into July. “Aw, come on. We’re going to be so good together. Even your subconscious knows it. You snuggled up to me in your sleep this morning. That’s proof.” He rested his forearm against the doorjamb.

“My subconscious knows no such thing. That was...that was self-preservation. I was cold.”

He chuckled. “You know, I don’t think anyone’s ever gotten hypothermia in a hotel.”

“There’s a first time for everything.”

“How about dinner next Saturday then?”

“I can’t. I’ll be in San Francisco.”

After looking forward to the San Francisco conference for four months, she suddenly regretted having signed up for it. She and Tammy had piggybacked a few more days onto the trip for sightseeing after the conference was over.

A frown wrinkled his forehead. “When do you get back?”

“A week from Wednesday. We can get together then.”

“I can’t wait that long. Are you free tomorrow?”

“I am the day
after
tomorrow. I have a night shift, but we could have brunch.” She’d be exhausted, but damn it, she’d stay awake for him even if she had to down twenty cups of coffee.

“I’ll pick you up. Is ten okay?”

She nodded.

He gave her his cell phone number, then took a picture of her so her face would show up when she called him.

“And you
will
be calling,” he said. “We’ll be talking a lot.”

“You’re so sure of yourself.”

“It’s called confidence, baby,” he said with that infectious grin of his.

He gave her one last quick kiss with a tiny bit of tongue, and then turned, jogged to the stairs and actually slid down the inch-wide railing. Her heart was in her throat for the five seconds it took for him to reach the bottom. Anyone else, and they would have been tumbling down the stairs or tipping backward onto the concrete, but when he landed lightly on his feet without any indication of being out of control, she exhaled in relief. She should have known he’d be okay. As a hockey player, he must have phenomenal balance.

“You’re crazy,” she called down to him.

“Crazy about you,” he called back, pointing.

The door to apartment 215 opened and sixty-year-old Louise Crawford stuck her head out. Without missing a beat, Tim blew a kiss to her. When Louise blew one in return, Tim pumped his fist in the air, then finally left. Erin laughed.

Louise was her favorite neighbor. She might be a cliché—a widow with a canary, crocheted cozies for her extra toilet paper and a collection of tiny decorative teapots—except for the fact that she made her living as a phone-sex operator. Erin had been shocked to find that out a little while after she’d moved into the complex.

“Is that your new boyfriend?” Louise asked in her husky voice.

Erin shrugged. “That has yet to be determined. We only met yesterday.”

“He’s cute.”

“Yes, he is.”

Louise smoothed her fluffy, white hair. “Well, if you don’t snap him up, maybe I’ll take a crack at him.”