The Season: Rush (Austin Arrows #1) (32 page)

Ellie

For the first time that I can recall, it’s possible that I encouraged my daughter to go spend the night with Gabby. I also might’ve been tempted to call in sick for the first time in … well, ever … and I probably would have if Noelle hadn’t been so kind to let me off the hook for tonight.

I want to see Kingston and merely the idea of it makes my body hum. I don’t know why, and I’m not spending too much time trying to figure it out. It’s simply the way things are right now. And luckily, in about fifteen minutes, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

I’m going on a date.

My first real date in at least a year—breakfast with Kingston or grabbing a hamburger after we deliver food all day doesn’t count. This is the real deal. The dress-up-like-you-want-to-knock-his-socks-off kind of deal.

Excitement mingles with anxiety, both of which run rampant through my veins. I spent the afternoon getting a mani-pedi, then treated myself to a facial, which I haven’t had in longer than I haven’t had a date. After that, I came home, soaked in the tub for almost an hour, then took a shower, dried my hair, and put on makeup.

I’m not sure I was this edgy on my prom night when I waited for my date—who was late, I might add—to come pick me up and face the wrath of my father.

Oh, how I wish my dad were here. He loved Kingston, and I’m sure he would be happy for me.

After pulling on my dress, I stop in front of the bathroom mirror and check my makeup. It’s subtle, I hope. Maybe more mascara than I usually wear. Still, I think I look good. I
hope
I look good.

When the doorbell rings, I suck in a deep breath and feel it rattle all the way through my body. I have no idea why I’m so freaked out. Kingston is the guy I’m having sex with. This is just a date.

Just a date.

Ha!

I can’t even
think
that with a straight face.

Before he has to ring the doorbell again, I make it to the front door. One more deep breath and I pull it open, gearing up to see him.

Jeezus, the guy looks like he just walked off of
GQ
, the sexy hockey edition. Only this hockey player looks nothing like he does on the ice. He’s wearing a black button-down, black slacks, and a black jacket. No tie, which is sexy in its own right.

“Hey, gorgeous.” Kingston holds up a single red rose—only this one is made of glass and looks incredibly fragile in his masculine hand—and I practically melt into the floor.

“Thank you.” My voice sounds strangled, but I can’t help it. The rose is an incredibly sweet gesture. I’m not a fan of flowers because to me it’s a waste of money since they die within a week. But a single glass rose… Very sweet.

His smile widens as though he can sense my anxiousness and possibly finds it endearing.

Before I can turn to get my purse, Kingston reaches for my arm, his big fingers circling my wrist as he pulls me into him.

“It’s probably not customary to kiss
before
the date…” His voice lowers an octave. “But I can’t seem to help myself.”

Personally, I don’t give a crap about customary, and I prove that when I meld my lips to his, exhaling as our bodies align. The kiss lingers for a few seconds, and Kingston is the one to pull back. Good thing, too. I’m not sure I would have.

“You ready?”

“Sure.”

Ready to get naked, absolutely.

Ready for sex, most definitely.

However, I don’t think that’s what he meant by the question, so I take the rose to the kitchen. It only takes a second to retrieve a hand towel from the drawer, lay it on the counter, and set the fragile rose on it. I don’t want to risk it falling off and shattering on the floor. With it securely in place, I head over to the counter and retrieve my clutch, opening it to ensure I put my cell phone and my house key in there. I did, so I’m good.

After I lock up the house, Kingston walks me to the truck.

“Where are you taking me?” I ask as Kingston helps me inside.

“Depends.” He leaves that hanging between us while he walks around to the driver’s side.

The instant the door is open, I’m questioning him again. “On what?”

“On whether you want seafood or steak.” Kingston puts the key in the ignition and starts up the powerful engine.

“So no reservation, huh?” I tease.

His smirk is slow and oh so sexy.

“Give me
some
credit. I’ve got reservations.” He winks. “I simply have to call and cancel one of them.”

“Sneaky.” And deliciously romantic, although I’m not sure Kingston would see it that way. “I like that.”

“I thought you might.” After putting the truck in reverse to back out of my driveway, he turns to me. “So which is it?”

“Seafood.” That’s a no-brainer.

“Seafood it is.”

Oddly enough, my nerves settle rather quickly during the drive to the restaurant. Although I’d gotten myself all worked up prior to Kingston’s arrival, being with him has become comfortable. However, the sexual tension is still thick.

Kingston reaches his hand over the center console and grabs my wrist, pulling my hand toward him. I stare, not sure what he’s doing until he links his fingers with mine. This guy is now holding my hand and it feels … quite possibly better than sex.

Okay, maybe not, but the romantic gesture is the equivalent of a donkey kick in my chest. I give his hand a gentle squeeze, then return my attention out the window, hoping I can keep myself together until we get back to my place.

As it is, I’m tempted to crawl into his lap right now and ask him to make love to me.

Doesn’t matter that he’s driving.

Kingston

I’ve wanted to take Ellie out for a while now. Not because it’s part of the agreement but because I enjoy being with her. It seems the only time we see each other is when we’re either at the Penalty Box or naked. Both are great, mind you, but I want to go beyond that and give her a night out.

Hence, the fancy seafood place.

I wasn’t lying when I said I had reservations at two places. I’d done it just in case. Although I had suspected she would pick seafood, I wasn’t going to risk it.

And I’m glad that was her choice.

For the last two hours, we’ve been here at the table, enjoying expensive wine and delicious food while we talk about anything and everything. Like how Bianca decided blue was more her color than pink or purple, so of course her hair was changed to reflect that. How Bianca is insistent that YouTube is educational and it’s okay to laugh if you’re learning. I’m not sure what that means, but okay. About how Christmas is coming up and neither of us have any plans. And how the team is steadily working its way toward the play-offs this year.

Unlike our first breakfast date, Ellie doesn’t seem as nervous. Not after we arrived at the restaurant, anyway. I’ve come to enjoy our conversations, no matter the topic. I simply like talking to her, looking at her, listening to her. The woman has captivated me in a way no other has before her.

“So, how about dessert?” I prompt when I see the waiter coming our way.

Her cheeks brighten. “I was thinking we could have dessert at my place.”

Damn, I don’t think there’s a more perfect woman in the world.

When the waiter arrives, I ask for the check, then promptly take care of the bill before leading Ellie back outside. I like the way she loops her arm through mine as we walk. She smells so damn good it’s a wonder I’ve managed to keep my hands off her this entire time.

While we wait for the valet, I can’t resist kissing her. It doesn’t matter that we’re out in public, in front of a relatively busy restaurant, or that a few people in the restaurant recognized me. The only thing I want to do is put my mouth on hers.

Well, technically that isn’t the
only
thing I want to do (or the only place I want to put my mouth), but it’s high on the list.

When my lips touch hers, Ellie leans into me. She tastes like the sweet wine she had with dinner. And when she moans softly, it’s all I can do not to back her up against the wall.

It’s then that I realize how much I’ve missed her. I want to spend all my time with this woman, not only a couple of nights a week or a few dates a month. I want to have her with me all the damn time. Day, night. I’ve never felt that way about a woman. Ever.

The arrival of my truck puts a damper on the make-out session, so I regretfully pull away and help Ellie inside. I tip the valet on the way to the driver’s side, then climb in and pull away from the curb.

I’m eager to get back to her place. We haven’t spent the night together for a while now, and I’m looking forward to it. I want to make love to her until neither of us can breathe, then I want to fall asleep with her in my arms, wake up with her in the same place so I can make love to her all over again.

“Thanks for dinner.”

I glance her way and grin. “My pleasure.”

As I’m driving, I hear a muted ringtone, and I glance down at Ellie’s purse. “I think that’s you.”

Ellie instantly grabs the tiny clutch, pops it open, and retrieves her phone.

“It’s the bar,” she says, but I’m not sure if she’s informing me or questioning it.

I glance her way and she meets my gaze. She looks confused, as though she doesn’t want to answer. She confirms her hesitation with her next question.

“What if there’s a problem?”

“Answer it,” I tell her. If she doesn’t, she’ll just be freaked out, anyway.

I try to give her a little privacy when she answers, but it’s not easy because of the tight quarters.

“This is Ellie.”

Since I can’t hear what’s being said on the other end, I try to focus on the road.

“Yes.”
Pause.
“Okay.”
Pause.
“I’m … uh … I’m not sure I understand.”

The cracking in her voice has me looking over at her, and I see her eyes are wide and she’s staring straight ahead.

“Yes, I heard you.” Her eyes dart to mine. “No, now’s probably not a good time.”
Pause.
“That sounds good. Yeah ... okay. Sure.”

Based on the look on her face, I feel a sense of dread come over me. I don’t know why, I don’t know what caused it, but the more I look at her, the more I know there’s a very good reason for it.

“Ellie? Is there something wrong?”

“Huh?” She sounds a little lost.

“Did something happen?”

When I come to a stop sign in her neighborhood, I briefly wait for her to talk to me.

“That was Noelle.”

Based on the way she looks, I’m not sure that’s a good thing. Was it bad news? I notice her hands are shaking, so I reach for the one closest to me. “Talk to me, babe.”

Her eyes are wide and there might be a hint of fear in them, I’m not sure.

“That was Noelle,” she repeats. “She called to let me know that I need to call … James.”

I frown at the mere mention of a man’s name.

Ellie swallows hard, her throat working as she continues to look at me. A tear catches me completely off guard, spilling from her eye. With my other hand, I reach to wipe it away.

“What’s going on?” I sound a little irrational now because she’s crying and I have no clue what I’m supposed to do.

“He called.”

I continue to stare. Asking “he who?” probably won’t get me too far based on how well this has gone already.

“He called me.” Her eyes widened. “He called the bar. And I have to call …
him
.” She glances down at the phone in her hand. “James.” Her eyes meet mine again. “Bianca’s dad.”

And just like that, my stomach drops. I don’t know what I’m supposed to say or feel, so I release Ellie’s hand and pull past the stop sign. I need to get her home. I don’t know why, but I do.

Within minutes, we’re pulling up to her house, but she hasn’t said a word. It’s starting to freak me out, so I hop out of the truck, walk around to her side, and open her door. As though she’s physically present but mentally somewhere far, far away, she climbs out but doesn’t seem to know what she’s doing. I guide her to the front door, take her key from her purse, unlock the door, and walk her inside.

“I don’t know how Bianca found him,” Ellie mumbles, lowering herself to the couch. “I looked and looked and…”

I’m confused. Ellie is supposed to know how Bianca found him. If she monitors her Facebook, she had to have seen the post.

She did see the post, right?

Based on her expression, she didn’t know about it. And that makes me a total asshole for not saying anything. I guess I should feel relief that she wasn’t keeping it from me, but … no, I don’t. No matter what, Ellie’s going to be upset that I knew and never said anything to her. I’m mad at myself for keeping it in, but I’m more pissed at this James character for coming into their lives now.

Seriously.

Why now?

There’s a trickle of dread that slithers down my spine. With him coming into Ellie’s life, what will that mean for us? Just when I thought we were making progress…

“Why aren’t you saying anything?”

I look down at her and see that she’s staring at me. I shrug, but I know I’m not sporting my poker face, so she’ll probably suspect something.

“Kingston?”

I meet her eyes again, waiting.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

That’s when my heart climbs into my throat. I have to choose my words carefully because what I say next will likely change everything between us. And quite frankly, I’m not sure I can stand to lose Ellie at this point.

41

Ellie

I’m not sure what’s wrong with Kingston, but he looks distraught. He probably looks worse than I do right now, and I’m not sure why that is. When he doesn’t answer my question, I know he’s not telling me something, but for the life of me, I can’t imagine what secret he might be keeping. It’s almost as though the mention of James’s name doesn’t come as a surprise to him.

“Kingston? Please talk to me.” My nerves are frazzled as it is; this silent thing he has going on is making it worse. Just hearing Noelle say James’s name has put me on edge. It has me clinging to that edge by my fingernails. According to Noelle, he didn’t say much on the phone. Well, not much after Noelle interrogated him, trying to get him to prove who he was. Once he did that, he simply told her that Bianca found him, and he was interested in talking to me regarding our daughter.

Our
daughter.

Strange how that one word sounds so very wrong, but if this is really James, he could very well be the other part of this parenting duo that created the most incredible kid on the planet.

But I have to keep my thoughts straight here. I have nothing to go on other than a phone call from a stranger—a stranger I didn’t even get to talk to myself. I don’t know the first thing about this guy. It’s been thirteen or so years since I’ve seen him, and what little time we spent together, I assure you, we hadn’t been talking.

But according to Noelle, he remembered that night in Vegas rather vividly. She’d been there, right up to the point when I went back to my room with him, so she knows how it all went down. According to her, he is definitely that same man.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Kingston approach. When he sits down beside me, I can’t help but lean into him. He’s a comforting presence in this rocky moment, and I need him here with me. I need him to ground me, to keep me safe.

Not that I think James will hurt me. I don’t think that at all.

But I don’t like surprises, and other than finding out I was pregnant at twenty-one by a guy I never expected to see again, this has to be the biggest surprise of my life.

“I thought you knew,” Kingston mutters.

Pulling my head from his chest, I peer over at him. “Knew about what?”

He doesn’t meet my gaze, which has my insides churning. His Adam’s apple moves slowly in his throat, and I realize he’s gearing up to tell me something. Something I don’t think I’m going to like.

“Bianca borrowed my phone at practice a couple of months ago…” Kingston pauses as he wipes his palms on his pants. “The next day, when I was looking at it, I noticed there was a Facebook profile open.” His eyes dart my way briefly, then move away just as quickly. “It was Bianca’s. Her last post was a public post, stating that she was looking for her father. She listed out the details of what you’ve apparently told her, along with a picture of you from when you were twenty-one or so.”

I put more distance between us so I can stare at him. Maybe I’m not understanding correctly.

“That’s not possible,” I say. “I monitor her Facebook and her Twitter account.” And I do. It’s another agreement that Bianca and I have. In order for her to have social media accounts, she had to agree to let me have the passwords so I could supervise them. I religiously check them at least twice a week to keep an eye on her. I don’t want her to be preyed on by people on the Internet.

“That’s what you told me,” he replies. “Which is why I didn’t say anything. I figured you knew.”

“And you didn’t care enough to ask?” I’m defensive, yes.

Kingston narrows his eyes. “And say what? Hey, Ellie, why didn’t you mention you’re looking for Bianca’s dad?” He takes a breath. “I didn’t think you wanted me to know. After all, it’s not really my business.”

Not his business? Is he serious?

I think it is—or it would be if we were really dating, I guess. Since this is pretend…

I decide not to argue with him. I’m pissed at Kingston for not saying something because who knows how long I’ve gone without knowing my daughter was actively looking for her father.

He looks at me once more, and the lines around his eyes soften. “I thought you knew. I figured you were helping her find him. Which I completely understand. Why wouldn’t she want to know him?”

“I thought you cared about us,” I shriek. I sound a little irrational, sure. I can’t help it. I think it’s easier to place blame on Kingston than to accept that my daughter has set out to find her father—behind my back. I sort of understand her reasoning, but … it hurts.

Yes. That’s what it is. I’m hurt. My own daughter didn’t tell me she was looking for her father. She doesn’t trust me enough to ask for my help and … I take a deep breath. This can’t be happening. First the pink hair, then … this. It’s like a knife to the back.

“Ellie, don’t do this,” Kingston says, his tone gruff. It’s like a warning. As though he’s trying to get me to pay attention to what I’m doing.

Well, I know what I’m doing. “You knew my daughter was searching for her father, and you didn’t bother to tell me.” I get to my feet and glare down at him. “I can’t believe you. I can’t believe you wouldn’t even bother to mention it. You’re fucking me, but you can’t ask about how my kid’s doing?”

Kingston’s gaze slams into mine and he holds my stare. “I thought you knew,” he repeats, his words gruff.

“How can you say that?” I’m losing it, I can feel it. “And okay, fine! Say I did know. Why wouldn’t you ask me about it? It’s okay for you to
fuck
me, but you can’t
talk
to me? You can’t even bother to ask how things are going with the search for her father? This is a big deal, Kingston!” I can feel everything slipping away from me. “Does Spencer know?”

He shrugs. “I didn’t tell him. I figured if the three of you were working this out, trying to find her dad, you didn’t want me to know because you never said anything.”

“Why?” I lift my arms and let them drop, completely baffled. “Why would we do that?”

Kingston gets to his feet. He’s so big, filling the small space of my living room with his overwhelming presence. For a second, I think he’s going to head for the door, and my stomach knots. I don’t want him to leave. Not like this.

This isn’t his fault. I have to remind myself of that. I’ve been looking forward to seeing him and now … I’ve ruined our entire night because of my freak out.

Kingston takes a step closer to me and I swallow hard, never looking away from his beautiful face. I can see he’s got a battle brewing; it’s all there in his dark eyes. When he reaches out for me, I allow him to pull me close, and I throw my arms around his waist, snuggling against the hard planes of his chest.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he mumbles. “Honest to God, Ellie, I thought you knew. I didn’t know how to approach it. Didn’t want you to think I was pushing you if you weren’t ready to talk.”

I nod. I need to spend more time thinking about that. I hate that he didn’t tell me, that he didn’t feel it was important enough to question. We’ve always been so close. Something like that… I can’t imagine not telling him. He’s like family in that regard. He’s been Spencer’s best friend for so long… How could he think we wouldn’t tell him?

Kingston’s heart drums beneath my ear and I focus on the sound. I need to calm down. I have to work through this. But not right now. Not tonight. I don’t want to think about it until I have a chance to actually talk to James myself.

I pull back and look up at Kingston to find him still staring down at me. He looks as upset as I feel, but I’m not sure why that is. Again, that’s something I don’t want to think about right now. I simply want him to comfort me. In a way only Kingston can.

I lift my hands up and cup his face, feeling the roughness of his beard against my palms. The man is so freaking beautiful. Others may not think so because of all the scars from his years playing hockey, but I do. The way he looks at me, even when he’s as confused as I am… It makes me feel things I never thought I’d feel. Certainly not with him.

I remain motionless as his head comes down toward mine. I know he’s going to kiss me and I’m prepared for it. Hell, I’m hoping for it.

“God, Ellie,” he whispers as his mouth claims mine.

Within seconds, the rest of the world fades away, and the only thing that’s left is this. Kingston’s mouth on mine, his strong arms wrapping around me, crushing me to him, his intoxicating scent flooding my senses. I can’t get enough.

Rather than waste unnecessary time heading for my bedroom, I urge Kingston back to the couch. When he sits, he pulls me with him and I straddle his lap, never pulling my mouth from his. I love the way his tongue claims mine, the way his hands clutch me as though he never wants to let go. I feel safe with this man.

I’m not sure that’s a good thing considering the situation, but I can’t bring myself to care right now. This has been building for far too long. We’ve given in too many times to turn back now.

While he cups my face and deepens the kiss, I slide my hands down between our bodies and work the button free on his slacks. I don’t want to wait anymore. I need to feel him inside me.

I need to feel all of him.

And I don’t want anything between us when that happens.