On the Fly (Crimson Romance) (20 page)

“Stop. This is another conversation we don’t need to have again. Maddie, I know you want to help me, but the best way to deal with it is to keep my distance.”

“Yeah. That’s really workin’ for ya.” Another head-to-toe scan.

She socked him in the shoulder. “Listen, though. It’s okay if you really like her. I can’t say she’s one of my top ten favorite people, but you can’t help who you have feelings for. I may not trust her, but I trust you. So you don’t have to hide this, okay?”

He sighed then dropped a kiss on top of her head. “Someday the universe better pay you back for all the good karma you’re rackin’ up.”

“Oh, I’m holding onto my tickets, just waiting for a big enough prize before I cash them in.”

Madden winked at her then held out his elbow. “You’re going to slip on the marble steps in those fuzzy socks and crack your skull. Take an arm.”

“How chivalrous.” Jacey held on and followed him down. Madden gave her a hug on his way out along with a warning not to let any strangers inside. The crumpled-up newspaper ball she threw at him bounced off the front door as he closed it.

Somehow the house seemed even bigger when she was alone. The sun dimmed as dusk fell, and she flipped on every light switch she passed on her way to the kitchen. The artificial brightness lifted her mood. Tapping a button on the iPod speaker dock, Jacey filled the room with high-energy pop music. She opened the fridge to decide on dinner. Her stomach was empty, but she didn’t feel hungry. Hadn’t really since the bachelor auction.

Carter’s words played again and again in her head in spite of her best attempts to squash them. He wanted to be with her. Knowing how he felt was torture. In any other life, they could be together. But in any other life, they wouldn’t have met. She blew out a sigh and stopped the circular thinking. Giving up on the fridge, Jacey looked around, and her gaze stopped on the hockey stick leaning against the wall by the table. It reminded her of Carter.

Vivid as anything, she saw him squaring off center ice, tipping a puck away from an opponent and using his strength, speed, and agility to race toward the goal. But this one wasn’t Carter’s. It was a special gift from Mario Lemieux after they’d played Pittsburgh the week before. He’d been close to her father. She wanted to mount it over the mantle, but once things got rolling with the real estate agent, she and Madden wouldn’t be in the house for much longer.

One of her favorite dance songs came on, and inspiration struck. Looking around as if someone might be watching, Jacey tiptoed to the hockey stick.

• • •

One week. He lasted one week before he couldn’t take it anymore. Carter had driven himself crazy going back and forth as to whether or not he should give in and see Jacey, and here he was, taking the path to her street with a pizza in hand. The sky turned to darker blues as the moon rose and the street lamps came on, but no one else walked the neighborhood trails. Because it was fairly mild for a February night, Carter felt comfortable in a lightweight sweater and jeans.

He cut through a few yards, and his heart beat harder as he walked around the extravagant pool behind Jacey’s home up to her glass back door. He could see lights on in the kitchen and heard pop music coming through the wall, so she had to be home. He knocked. No response, so he knocked louder.

A shriek made him back up a step. The music cut out, and Jacey sprang into view holding a hockey stick like a sword, her eyes wide but fierce. When the shock wore off, he doubled over laughing until he couldn’t breathe. He almost dropped the pizza. It was just too much. Her expression looked like Xena, Warrior Princess, but as Madden had described, she wore nothing but an enormous old Rockers T-shirt that nearly touched her knees along with fuzzy pink socks. Her curls were piled high in a ponytail directly on top of her head. Throw in some braces, and she’d look fourteen.

She held the hockey stick in a white-knuckled grip. “I thought you were a robber or a rapist. Jeez, you never heard of the front door?”

“I didn’t want to draw attention. Can I come in?”

Jacey licked her lips, slowly regaining composure. “Madden told me not to let strangers inside.”

“Hey, I didn’t stay away by choice. Besides, would a stranger know you have a star-shaped birthmark on your — ”

The door swung open so fast he had to jump back to avoid getting hit. “Shhhh! Someone could hear you.”

“Nice choice of protection, by the way.” He grinned so hard it hurt. She looked less amused.

“How’d you like a slap shot to the five hole?”

Her easy and accurate use of terminology impressed him, but Carter closed his stance so his legs pressed together. It was a threat no guy could afford to take as a joke. “You wouldn’t hit a man with a pizza, would you?” He held it up in case she missed it. Jacey eyed the box, apparently weighing her options. Finally, she stepped aside so he could enter.

Carter proceeded slowly, not letting the stick out of his sight as he edged around her and set their dinner on the island countertop. “Why do you have a hockey stick in your kitchen, anyway?”

“It’s just — I was … it’s the signed stick from Mario Lemieux when we played Pittsburgh.”

“Right, but why … ” Carter looked her over again then took in the little boom box sitting on a stool with an attached iPod on pause. A slow smile creased his lips. “Oh, I get it. I interrupted you mid
Risky Business
. You were singing into the stick, weren’t you? Don’t stop on my account.”

“That’s … I … shut up. If you must know, that’s all I did growing up — sing. The rest of my family was hockey-obsessed. I took voice lessons.”

Carter’s smile crinkled the corners of his eyes, and she poked him in the chest with the blade of the stick. “Why are you here, anyway?”

He caught her wrist before she could pull back, felt her pulse speeding under the soft skin. Up close, she smelled like warm vanilla, and he noticed her hair wasn’t quite dry, a few curls darker red than others. His gut tightened as he thought about taking her back to the shower, this time to get dirty. It would be easier to answer her question with a kiss — he thought about it — but she disarmed him with one of those vulnerable looks that turned him inside out. How did she
do
that?

“I missed you.” The truth, short and sweet. He hadn’t even thought about the words; they just fell out. Whatever he was expecting in return, it wasn’t what he got.

Jacey rolled her eyes and turned on the ball of her foot, headed for the stairs.

“Hey, uh … ”

She waved an arm at him without looking. “I’ll be back.” She peeled off the fuzzy socks then bounded up and out of view.

Carter blew out a breath, staring after her for a minute before he hunted around for paper plates.

• • •

As soon as she knew he couldn’t see her, Jacey sprinted for her room and dove inside. Her heart beat so fast it felt like she had a hummingbird trapped in her chest. What the
hell
? They didn’t talk at all except for team meetings for two months and now he just shows up at her back door with dinner?

She threw off the Rockers T-shirt, traded her sports bra for a real one then wiggled into jeans and a fitted, long-sleeved sweater with a scoop neck. He’d been right about using the hockey stick as a microphone. Suddenly the space under her bed looked awfully inviting. A nice place to hide until he left. She considered it another second then grumbled under her breath. Big girls faced their problems. Damn it.

She passed the mirror over her dresser and caught a glance of her hair. “Shit.” Her cheeks warmed when she thought about what she must have looked like when he came in. Why did she care? Why did his presence turn her into a nervous teenager? Pulling the elastic off as carefully as possible, Jacey dug her fingers into her curls and shook them out. Still a little wet from the shower, they weren’t a frizzy mess. Thank God.

One step toward the door, she remembered her utter lack of makeup. “Damn, damn, damn.” She skidded into her attached bathroom and attempted mascara. Her hand trembled so much she almost poked herself in the eye. Twice. When it was good enough, she swiped on some tinted lip-gloss and headed back downstairs.

Carter stood just where she left him, except he’d found paper plates. She didn’t want to admit it, but he looked mouthwatering. Three feet away, and she could smell his intoxicating, woodsy cologne. She smelled it even when he wasn’t around. The double-edged sword of sensory memory. He was clean-shaven, his hair perfectly spiked. She smiled a little. He’d dressed up for her too. The thought sent a warm tingle curling through her chest.
Stop it.

“You no longer look like you want to unman me, and you lost the stick. Can I take this as progress?” He held out a plate with a big slice of pepperoni.

Jacey accepted it but didn’t take a bite. He wasn’t getting off that easy. “Carter. Why are you
here
?”

He sat on the edge of a stool and leaned his forearms on the countertop. He’d rolled up his sleeves, and she stared at the defined muscle under his skin. Forced her gaze back to his.

“I meant what I said. I miss you. I have been trying like hell to forget you for the last two months, but I can’t get you out of my head. Nothing’s changed, but I just couldn’t take it any more, knowing you were two streets away and all I had to do was walk over. No reporters here.”

She wanted to scoff, knew she should shoo him out and stick to the decision it had killed her to make. But honestly, she’d had the same thoughts. A few times she’d even laced up her tennis shoes and made it as far as the front door. Jacey bit her lower lip and stared at him, weighing the options. Make the gorgeous hockey player go home. Or curl up with him and eat pizza …

“Jacey, who are we hurting? Right now, just you and me, who are we hurting?”

No one. Not in this moment. The problem was, this moment would lead to other moments, and — Jacey derailed that train of thought. She flashed back to the scary image of herself in the mirror five minutes ago. What had she become? A lonely woman in the prime of her life staying in on a Saturday night to sing karaoke into a hockey stick. No more. Resolute, she sat on the stool beside him and took a bite of the pizza.

He smiled at her and piled three pieces on his plate. “Okay. So you can admit it now.”

“Admit what?”

“You missed me too.”

“I did not … ”

He looked at her, sad-eyed.

While she knew he was playing, under the feigned hurt rippled something real. He honestly thought she might not feel the same way. He kept surprising her. She tilted her head and shrugged. “Maybe I missed you a little.”

Carter’s satisfied smile didn’t quite hide the relief. The straight set to his shoulders relaxed. She poked the smooth leather of his shoe with her bare foot. “Maybe I missed you a lot.”

“Yeah?” His golden brows went up, and for a second, she could swear she saw hope flicker in his hazel eyes turned gold by the warm light of the kitchen. For all his bravado on the ice, the tough guy had some soft spots. Knowing she was one of them, Jacey felt … lucky.

“Yeah.”

“Is this going to turn into one of those ‘I missed you more,’ ‘No, I missed you more,’ scenarios?”

Jacey tossed her head back and laughed. “I cannot imagine you ever saying that.”

Carter ate half a piece of pizza in one bite and shook his head as he swallowed. “I haven’t. Until now. But if this ever gets back to Reese, I deny it all.”

“Oh, please. Like I’d ever tell Reese anything. He tells his mom, she tells yours, the circuit is complete and we both get fried. I think we learned that lesson.”

He grinned down at his third piece of pizza, picked a fallen pepperoni from the plate, and popped it in his mouth. “She still asks about you. Every time I talk to her.”

Her heart pinched, and she pressed her lips together to keep them from quivering. Jacey had wondered about Carter’s mom and even missed her. She’d only met the woman once, but Genevieve Phlynn’s kindness and genuine interest had shown Jacey how much she longed for her own mother. “She’s really sweet.”

“She says the same about you. I don’t mean to give this date a weird vibe, but I think she wants to adopt you.”

Jacey laughed, but a few unexpected tears gathered and slid down her cheeks. She brushed them away, trying to play it off with a smile, though she knew it couldn’t be convincing. Her cheeks warmed, and she angled away from him, trying to rein it in. Thoughts of her parents rushed to the forefront, and she felt their absence full force. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, hey.” Carter wrapped his arms around her from behind, tucked his chin on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Her first impulse was to pull away. All her life, she’d been strong for others. A role she’s chosen, and one that kept her from thinking too much about her own fears. But it felt too good cradled against him, his hard chest at her back, his soft breath by her ear. It felt safe. Solid. It terrified her, but she forced herself to relax, to accept the comfort. She licked her dry lips and took a deep breath. “Your mom just reminded me so much of mine. I mean, I don’t have that many memories, but your mom
felt
familiar. And thinking about her now reminded me that I … You’re very lucky.”

His warm lips pressed to her cheek for a long minute before he nuzzled her temple. “You’re right. I am.”

She turned her head, bringing them nose-to-nose. His lower lip brushed hers, but he hesitated. Jacey smiled at the thought that he didn’t want to take advantage of her. It made his response all the more rewarding when she closed the distance and kissed him. He lifted his hands as she turned on the stool, then he held her face with a delicate touch. She still couldn’t believe a man like Carter — so aggressive on the ice — could be so gentle and careful with her.

He touched his forehead to hers. She felt his breath against her lips, opened her eyes to find his, half-lidded and dark, staring back at her. Carter lightly trailed the rough pads of his fingers over the column of her neck, across her shoulders, and down her arms. He took her hands and squeezed. The tension of the moment felt like a physical weight compressing her chest. All she had to do was lean into him, give some sign she wanted to keep going. Oh, and she did. Part of her craved that physical connection. But they’d been through so much. Things were so uncertain.