Chapter Twenty-Five

The fresh bite of wood stain scented the air as Scott carefully wrapped Casey’s gift in the paper provided by the GM. Richter had stopped by the day before to make sure he’d be at Casey’s party, and Scott had nervously spilled both his intention to bring the gift early and told Richter what the gift was. The man spent a lot of time with Casey, so he’d know if she’d like it.

“She’ll love it, Demyan. It’s . . . you made this yourself?”

“Yeah. I’m pretty good at stuff like this.” Scott shrugged, uncomfortable sharing that little tidbit with the GM, but kinda hoping the man wasn’t about to tell him it was a good thing he could play the game. “I made all my own furniture, but I don’t usually make stuff for other people. It’s just a hobby.”

“Well . . . if you’re not too busy—this can’t take you away from training—”

“It doesn’t,” Scott said quickly.

“Good. Then maybe you could make something like this for Amia? I’d pay you of co—”

Scott shook his head, barely resisting hugging Richter, speaking in a rush. “I’d love to. And you don’t need to pay me. I didn’t get Silver or the baby anything, and it would be awesome to give them something they’ll like. I mean . . . if you like it?”

“Scott.” Dean gave him a hard look. “Know your worth. You’re very talented. You have another twelve years at best in your hockey career. It’s good that you have something you enjoy doing to focus on after.”

“Thank you, Mr. Richter,” Scott said, a little embarrassed by the compliment, not really comfortable talking about life after hockey. “I’ll see you Saturday.”

Richter hesitated by the door. “Scott, I know you and Sahara are not together. The way she looks at Keane . . .” He sighed. “That aside, I’ve seen how you are with Pearce. And the way you watch Becky when she’s rushing around, herding the press. I have to tell you—”

“What, Richter? I’m not seeing how what the three of us do is any of your business.”

“It isn’t. But Landon won’t trust you not to hurt his sister.” Richter’s jaw hardened. “I’m not sure I trust you, but I can deal with my misgivings. Landon has enough stress. I’d simply ask you not to add to it.”

“So no PDA?” Scott’s tone was sharp, but he was done having everyone dictate his life. What more did he have to do? He scoffed as he held his front door open for Richter. “I don’t think Becky’s into making out in the parking lot like teens. But she’s not going to let her little brother tell her who to be with. She’s made that pretty clear.”

Nodding slowly, Richter took his cane from where it rested against the wall by the door. The sky was cloudy. His knee seemed to be bugging him. “Forget that I mentioned it.”

Now Scott felt like an asshole. Richter was just looking out for Bower. They had their own issues. He sighed. “We don’t need to flaunt anything. I’ve got it.”

“Yo, Demmy, you gonna make me load this into your car by myself?”

Carter nudged Scott’s shoulder with a fist, bringing him back to the present. Scott glared at him. “Don’t call me that. I put up with it when you were drunk, but—”

“Ugh, can we not talk about that?” Carter hunched down at one end of the heavy gift. “You don’t bitch when Vanek calls you Demmy.”

“Yeah, well no one bitches when Vanek does anything.” Scott picked up his end. “I’m glad he’s back, you know?”

“I know. But he’s starting to be a pain in the ass.” Carter backed carefully through the open front door, easing into the hall outside Scott’s condo. “I’m glad Tim told us to hit him as hard as we can to make sure he’s ready. Vanek chirps at me one more time about the one time I let Chicklet Domme me and I’m gonna do more than nail him into the boards.”

“I hear you.” Scott took a deep breath as they placed the gift on the floor of the elevator, pushing the button for the basement level. “I swear, the kid’s using his mouth to make up for lost time.”

“I’m gonna enjoy watching his Domme put ball stretchers on him at the club this weekend.” Carter winced. “So long as it doesn’t give Seb any ideas.”

“Fuck off. I should tell him you said that.” Scott smirked. Carter was a fucking pain slut. It had freaked him out the first few times he’d seen Ramos use clamps or a riding crop on him, but Carter clearly enjoyed everything the big man did to him. “You so into being shared, maybe Ramos should ask Chicklet—”

“No. I don’t think Jami would be cool with another woman . . . fuck, Demyan, about when I was drunk—”

Oh, hell no. “Forget it.”

“I can’t.”

“Did you tell, Ramos?”

“Yeah. I woulda anyway, but Pearce made sure I didn’t put it off.” Carter lowered the gift, waiting for Scott to unlock the backseat of his car before lifting it again. For some reason, his face was really red. And not from the weight. “I told Seb . . . fuck, it would be weird if me and you did anything. After Bower, you’re one of my best friends. We’d have some hot, wild fucking sex—”

“Ramos never put speech restrictions on you?” Scott felt himself getting hard. His agent, Zach’s, and Stephan needed to be locked up somewhere for at least an hour so he and Zach could do more than crash at the end of the night. Two weeks without any was killing him. And Carter had a nice ass. Friends or not, he couldn’t take much more of this. “He should.”

“And here I am, baring my soul to you.” Carter shook his head and ducked into the passenger seat. He didn’t speak again until Scott started driving. “Seb and Pearce talked a few times.”

“So?”

“If Pearce . . . if I did a scene with him, would it bother you?”

Scott took a deep breath. The answer should be easy, but it wasn’t. Zach was his and Becky’s. But being a Dom was part of him. Ramos getting him to even consider doing a scene was a good thing. Would it bother him if Zach fucked Carter?

Hell yes.

But the other stuff? He wasn’t sure. Watching Carter suck Zach’s cock would be fucking hot. Seeing Ramos and Zach tie Carter up and torture him a little, not letting him come, touching him and using floggers and stuff on him . . .

I need a bath. Full of ice. Or kill me now. He cleared his throat. “Naw, I guess it would be okay.”

The last thing Scott wanted to be thinking about when he got to Becky’s place was sex, but his chat with Carter made it hard to think of anything else. And when he tried, all he could think about was whether Zach playing with Ramos and Carter would bother Becky. He carried the gift up to Becky’s porch, set it down, then rang the doorbell.

When she opened the door, it was like . . . he couldn’t find the words. Damn, he wanted her. But it wasn’t mindless lust like what his talk with Carter made him feel. He wanted to step inside, slam the door in Carter’s face, and pull her into his arms. Kiss her in a way that might express all the things he couldn’t say. Long and slow, like he’d never let her go.

I don’t have to let her go. If I don’t fuck this up, I’ll have her tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that . . .

Or would he? It still made him a little nervous because, if she could take off on Zach, what reason would she have to see this through with Scott involved?

“Hey!” Her tone was bright, but something in her eyes made him feel like she could see his every thought branded right on his forehead. She pressed her lips together, then seemed to come to some kind of conclusion as she waved him and Carter inside, laughing when they whispered their greetings. “You don’t have to worry about waking up Casey. She’s not here—Dean’s mother picked her up earlier since she can’t come tomorrow. She’s bringing Casey to Dean’s so I can decorate tonight.” Her eyes were wide as she looked over the present. “That’s quite the gift. Wow. Dean pulled off the purple Cobra paper! We’ve both been so busy with work, I wasn’t sure he could!”

“Yeah, not much that man can’t do,” Scott said as he and Carter carried the gift into the living room.

“Would you boys like a drink? Coffee? Soda?”

Carter asked for a soda, then made himself comfortable on an armchair as Scott hovered by the large, wrapped package. He started wondering if the stain he’d used was too dark. Or if the thing was too big.

What if Becky hates it? Or Casey does?

Becky put her hands on her hips, shaking her head. “Something’s bothering you, Scott. What is it?”

Scott shrugged, shuffling his feet and staring at the floor. “Just . . . could you take a look at the gift? I want to make sure it’s okay.”

“But it’s wrapped so nicely.”

“Yeah, but . . .” Scott ran his tongue across his teeth and glanced over at Carter. Who just sat back in the chair and smirked. Helpful bastard that he was. Scott knelt by the gift. “The paper won’t rip much if we’re careful.”

He’d wanted the gift to be a surprise for Becky and Casey, but why disappoint them both? If Becky didn’t like it, he might have time to get Casey something else.

Becky bit her bottom lip, her eyes seeming a little sad. But she simply nodded.

They’d need more tape to wrap it up again, but he managed not to ruin the paper. He smoothed the wrapping out over the floor, taking a deep breath before glancing up at Becky. Then he cursed and shot to his feet.

She was crying.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to . . .” He swallowed, holding out his arms, relieved when she stepped up to him and leaned against his chest. “It’s okay. I’ll get rid of it. I just thought—”

“Get rid of it?” Becky let out a shocked laugh. “Please tell me you’re joking!” She eased away from him, dropping to her knees in front of the maple toy box, tracing one of the unicorns he’d carved into the lid with a fingertip. “She’s going to love this. How did you . . . you did this, Scott? For my baby?”

“Yeah.” Is that really so hard to believe? “I told you; I think she’s awesome.”

Shaking her head, Becky continued to examine the toy box, running her hands over the wood he’d sanded so carefully, checking the special hinge he’d gotten so the lid wouldn’t slam shut. Then she went back to staring at the carved unicorns.

“I don’t know what to say.” She shot to her feet and threw herself at him, practically knocking him off his feet as she hugged him. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

He rubbed her back and kissed her hair. “So it’s good?”

“It’s better than—” Becky laughed and playfully slapped his chest. “It’s amazing! What happened to that ego, Mr. Demyan? You have no problem showing it for the press.”

“I don’t care what they think of me,” Scott said.

“Ah . . .” Becky gave Carter a pointed look. “Thank you for helping Scott bring that in, Luke. Are you finished your drink?”

Carter frowned and glanced at his empty glass. “Yeah, but—”

“It’s been nice seeing you. Give Jami a kiss for me.” Becky took the glass from Carter.

“Becky, Landon won’t—”

“Lucas Isaiah Carter, don’t you dare go there.”

“Hey!” Carter scowled. “Only my mom gets to call me that.”

“And she probably does it when you’re being a pain in the butt. Landon has no say in this. And you can tell him I said so.”

“Really?” Carter stood and folded his arms over his chest. “You really think that would be a good idea with all that’s going on?”

Becky took a long, deep inhale, shaking her head. “Maybe not. Don’t tell Landon. I will when the time is right. But that doesn’t change what I’m going to do with my life.”

“Fine.” Carter rolled his eyes and headed for the door. “It’s Demyan’s funeral.”

After Carter left, Scott distracted himself meticulously rewrapping Casey’s gift. Becky didn’t say anything for a long time, simply went through the two bags of decorations, looking up at him once in a while as though she wanted to speak. The silence was getting weird. Almost like they were strangers.

He didn’t like it.

So he went over to the table and picked up one of the rolled up streamers. “Purple? I thought Casey’s favorite color was pink?”

“It’s her second favorite color now,” Becky said with a light laugh. “She’s been going back and forth for years.”

“Ah . . . so her room . . .” His brow furrowed. “If you want, I don’t mind helping paint it again. Unless that’s something you and Zach—”

“She loves her room. But I’m not finished painting the basement if you want to help.”

“Sure.” He rubbed the back of his neck and held up the streamers. “Want me to start hanging these?”

“Soon.” Becky stood, holding on to a banner she’d just taken out of the package. She brushed by him, leaving sparks on his skin with the brief contact. “Can you help me with this first?”

“Okay.” Scott went to get a chair from the kitchen, inhaling and exhaling slow, even breaths, trying to stick to the task at hand. He returned to the living room, stood on the chair and taking thumbtacks from Becky to pin the banner on one wall. They continued for a bit, Becky asking him about training camp, telling him about her job. Then how well Casey was fitting in at school. He found himself more interested in the conversation when Becky complained about how a teacher had already called her to recommend she encourage Casey to find another interest besides hockey.

“If Casey were a boy, I doubt anyone would have a word to say about it. I’d rather her be interested in hockey than Pokémon or Skylanders or . . .” Becky gave him a sharp look when he chuckled. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. I just wouldn’t want to be that teacher.” He grinned as he stepped off the chair, done with the last of the streamers. “Is Casey good with everything else? Reading? Math?”

“Yes. And she speaks two languages fluently. I think the teacher just needed something to complain about because Casey’s ahead of her level in everything. It’s not that she’s not making friends—just most of them are boys.”

“She doesn’t seem like a tomboy.”

“She’s not . . . really. She loves dressing up, but only one or two other little girls are interested in hockey. Casey takes offense to anyone not knowing who ‘Landon Bower’ is.” A soft smile on her lips, Becky glanced over to a large photo of her brother and Casey on the mantle. Bower was in uniform and Casey was about three, sitting on his knee and beaming for the camera. “He’s her hero. And all the most important men in her life have been part of the game. Her father hates it, but . . . sometimes I wonder if that doesn’t make her love it more. They aren’t close.”

“He’s an idiot.” Scott paused, then cleared his throat. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. It was one thing for Becky to say things about her kid’s father. It was different for him to do it. “I mean—”

“It’s all right.” She put her hand on his arm. His heart stuttered as she peered up at him, something vulnerable in her eyes. “As long as you don’t say that in front of her . . . it’s just . . . sometimes I wonder why he can’t be a better father to her. She deserves so much more.”

“So do you.” That didn’t make any sense. He swallowed as she shifted closer to him. Fuck, her soft warmth felt damn good against his hard chest. Cool it, Demyan. “I mean, you deserved better from the man you married.”

“I knew what you meant.” She met his eyes. Pressed her hand to his cheek. Her hot gaze was a lick of flames straight from the center of his chest to the tip of his dick. “Scott . . . I won’t have what I have with Zach with you. But I can’t take control and—”

So not a problem. He slammed his lips to hers, groaning against her lips, lifting her up against the wall. She tore at his shirt even as he lifted hers over her head. Both ended up tangled together on the floor. He hissed in a breath as he kissed her throat, and her nails dug into his shoulders. He had her pants undone. Bent to pull them off. Straightened, claiming her lips as she worked on his belt.

His dick pulsed pure heat as her fingers wrapped around it. Raw lust clawed at him as he brought her up again. Her hand left him and her arms wrapped around his neck. He held her hips with one arm as he grinded against her.

“Condom.” She gasped, shoving at him with one hand, holding him against her with her arm looped around the back of his neck. “My purse.”

When did he ever forget a condom? Hell, thankfully she had some, because he hadn’t even put one in his wallet. He put her down and tripped over their clothes, halfway across the room before he realized he had no idea where her purse was. And to top it off, there was no way he was going through a woman’s purse.

Becky found her purse before he had to worry about invading her privacy. She dropped to her knees in front of him, then rolled on the condom. When her lips slid over him, he buried his hands in her hair. Not moving. Hardly breathing. This was Becky. His Becky.

All the times he’d come on to her, all the times he’d pushed for some cheap, torrid affair between them—fuck, he’s was glad she’d shot him down each and every time. Because it wouldn’t have been like this. The way she gazed up at him as she took him in deep brought more than unbelievable pleasure. It pierced his heart, injecting his love for her straight into his blood until he could feel it flowing through his veins, thick and pure. That love had been there from the first time he’d laid eyes on her, but he’d been too messed up to see it for what it was. And he’d almost ruined it.

Being with a woman almost always came with the risk of him seeing . . . someone else. No matter what they did, flashes of the past would sear the inside of his skull, burning straight into his brain if he didn’t numb it with about a dozen shots first. But he was sober now. Sober and all he saw, all he felt, was Becky.

The second he closed his eyes, the second he gave into the pleasure—he couldn’t see her. All he could feel was lips around his cock. The sensation was too clear. He forced his eyes open, gulping against the strained sound coming from his throat. Becky. He pulled her to her feet, staring at her as he lifted her up against the wall. He held her gaze as he slid into her body.

She gasped, her legs wrapped around his waist, pressing her eyes shut as she took him in deeper.

“Look at me, Becky.” He kissed her, thrusting in, whispering against her parted lips as her eyes met his, “Becky. Becky.”

Her fingers dug into the back of his neck. She bit his bottom lip hard, panting, never looking away from him. “That’s right. Becky. I’ve got you, Scott. Ah! God! I’ve got you!” She whimpered as he hammered into her, dragging her nails across his shoulders. “Ah!”

She undulated around him, screaming, gasping into his mouth. He tried to hold back a little longer, but she clenched down hard and pleasure erupted, numbing his brain, so fierce and abrupt his mind never had a chance to go anywhere else. He leaned into her, fighting to hold her up as a merciless, fiery fist gripped the base of his spine, blazing up and around his cock, spreading along his muscles until the effort to stand had him shaking.

Their bodies were both slick with sweat as he gently pulled out and set her on her feet. He removed the condom and went to the kitchen to toss it in the trash. When he got back to the living room, she was gathering all their clothes. He watched her for a beat before laughing and sweeping her up into his arms. He managed to grab her purse before he headed up the stairs.

And he was halfway up before she made a shocked sound of protest.

“Hush, babe.” He strode up the last few steps, then kissed her until she didn’t seem like she much wanted to talk anymore. “We’re not done yet. Not even close.”

* * * *

The sweetest, softest kisses eased her awake, making her smile sleepily and let out a contented sigh as the scent of coffee greeted her. She laughed as weight pinned her legs and scruffy cheeks rubbed between her breasts.

“Scott.” She tipped her head back as he drew a nipple into his mouth. “Mmm . . .” Feels so good . . . why do I have to stop him again? She slit her eyes open and glanced at the clock on the nightstand. 10:15 a.m. She nudged Scott’s shoulder, quickly sitting up. “I slept in. Damn it! I’ve got to get everything ready!”

Scott made a face, looked like he might protest for a minute, then nodded, handing her one of the cups of coffee he’d left by the clock. “Drink your coffee first. What time is everyone supposed to be here?”

“My brother and a few other people are coming early for last-minute things. Ten thirty? Eleven?” She groaned as the doorbell sounded. “Now?”

“Ah . . .” Scott went still at the sound of the door opening downstairs. “Who has your key?”

“Landon, but don’t worry, I’ll—”

“Becky! Where do you want the cake?” Landon called out.

“Shit.” Scott dragged his jeans up over the boxers he’d slept in. He gave her a quick kiss, ignoring her surprised stuttering, and headed toward the window. “Stall him. I’ll disappear.”

“Scott, you don’t need to—” Becky ground her teeth and hurried to grab her robe as she heard Landon on the stairs. She opened the door a crack. “I’m coming!”

“Are you still in bed?” Landon sounded shocked. No wonder. She never slept in like this. “You feeling okay?”

The window opened and closed behind her. She braced her forehead against the doorframe, wondering if Scott was more likely to break his neck if she went and shouted for him to get his ass back in here. Was he really that scared of her brother?

“I’ll be right out.” She smirked, knowing from experience exactly how to get her brother to back off. “I just started my period last night and—”

Landon grumbled something and his footsteps sounded down the stairs twice as fast as he’d come up. She hurried to the window, opening it quietly and sticking her head out to try and see Scott. She spotted his hands on the ledge. They disappeared.

No scream of pain. He was all right.

But by the large crab apple tree in her backyard, stood Zach. His expression shifted from relief to anger. He met her eyes briefly before moving forward, probably closer to Scott.

And there was no mistaking that look. He thought she’d used Scott, treated him like the snack she’d called him, then kicked him out. Damn it, she needed to let him know . . .

Only, she couldn’t. Not until after the party. She wished he knew her well enough, that he’d trust her enough—and yet, she’d already proven he didn’t. He couldn’t.

She had no one to blame but herself. She just hoped he’d give her a chance to explain.

* * * *

Zach rolled his shoulders and inhaled slowly, forcing a smile as Scott righted himself from his dangerously high drop. Fine, it was no different than a teen jumping off the monkey bars in the park, but no less stupid. And said teen wasn’t inching close to thirty, with a professional hockey team that needed him healthy and whole.

Damn it, I need him healthy and whole.

This wasn’t the time or place to come down on Scott about being careless, or Becky for being . . . what exactly? Heartless? She wasn’t that. And yet, a big part of their issues were about her making Scott feel like he was a negligible part of the relationship. Or not part of it at all. He didn’t expect her to announce what went on in her bedroom to the world, but would it have been so hard to say Scott had shown up early to help?

Scott stared at Zach, barefoot and shirtless, a blush staining his cheeks. He cleared his throat as he pulled on the pale blue T-shirt he’d had tucked into the back of his jeans. “Ah . . . hey, Zach.”

“Hey.” Zach shook his head, laughing as he reached out and pulled Scott against his side, one arm draped over his shoulders. “You dumbass. Tim would kill you if he saw that.”

“Yeah, well Landon would freak if he knew I spent the night.” Scott glanced toward the front of the house as another car pulled up, then drew Zach closer to the house, out of sight. “You’re not pissed, are you? I’m not sure how this is supposed to work. You said it was okay and—I don’t have to ask every time, do I? That would be—”

“No. You don’t have to ask.” He fisted his hand in Scott’s shirt, brushing his lips over Scott’s, not quite kissing him. “So long as you always come back to me.”

They didn’t have much time. He shouldn’t be doing this here. But Zach couldn’t help himself. He slid his hand up to Scott’s throat, feeling the rapid pulse under his palm. Teased the crease of Scott’s lips with his tongue until Scott groaned and let him in. And then did the best he could to show Scott exactly how much he meant to him.

“You coming, Pearce?” Tim shouted from the front of the house.

Zach eased away from Scott, his hand on Scott’s shoulder, not ready to let him go just yet. He replied loud and clear, “I’ll be right there!” Then locked his eyes with Scott’s passion-glazed blue ones. “I hope you enjoyed your night. And I’ll tell you the same thing I told her. I won’t get in between you, but—”

“We’ve all got to be open and honest. Got it.” Scott gave himself a little shake. “You two are gonna drive me nuts. All this talkin’ can’t be healthy.” He winked to show he was joking, then adjusted himself in his jeans and strode out to meet Tim and the next car pulling in. “Carter! Long time no see!”

The group converged on Becky’s living room, talking loudly, all excited for the birthday girl to get there. Zach was a little surprised to see both Landon and Dean there without Amia. Neither seemed to leave the baby’s side for long. Dean spent most of his time on the phone—likely organizing last minute details for Casey’s other party. Laura left Tyler and Chicklet with Landon, arguing about the cameras and video recorders, and joined Becky in the kitchen to help set up lunch. Scott followed her and, after a moment, Zach did as well.

“Thank you so much!” Becky smiled at Laura as she took over peeling cucumbers. She gave Scott a shy look, handing him a plate of pigs in a blanket. Then her smile faded as she turned to Zach. “Umm . . . we should probably talk.”

He agreed, but it could wait. Casey didn’t need to see her mother stressed-out because of him on her birthday. So he shook his head, giving her an easy smile. “Later, little doe. What can I do to help?”

Becky looked uncertain but quickly pulled it together and nodded at the fridge. “I made sandwiches. Five different kinds. Can you put them on those trays?” She gestured to a stack of trays on the counter. “And bring them to the dining room table?”

“Sure.” Zach stepped up to her side, kissing her cheek and whispering in her ear. “I meant what I said on the card. Things are going to be okay.”

That brightened her up considerably. She flushed, then scurried off as someone rang the doorbell. Soon the house was even noisier, with little boys running around, demanding autographs and chatting with the players. He had to stop his task several times to sign hats and jerseys. But, by the time Casey arrived with Jami, Silver, and Amia, everything was in order.

Casey screamed as she stepped into the living room, bouncing up and down and pressing her hands to her cheeks. She spun around in a circle to take in all the streamers, the signs, and the party accessories with Cobra logos on every available surface. She ran up to her mother, hugging Becky’s legs and screaming “Thank you!” over and over.

The excitement startled Amia and she burst out in shrill cries. Silver patted her back awkwardly, looking ready to cry herself. The second Landon took Amia, Silver excused herself and hid in the kitchen.

Becky’s hand went to her throat. She glanced at Casey who had been distracted by Carter furtively handing her one of her gifts. Then she slipped away from the crowd as though to follow Silver. Dean caught Zach’s eye from across the dining room. Shook his head before going after Silver himself.

Zach reached Becky by the doorway, his hand on her arm, speaking low. “Silver will feel even worse if she thinks she’s taken you away from Casey. Enjoy the party.” He kept his arm around her as she nodded, knowing how hard this would be for her. Nothing was more important than her family. Yes, her daughter came first, but she’d be torn, seeing how distracted Casey was and how broken Silver looked. But she listened to him. She stayed. And seemed to find strength in having him at her side.

Which somehow made it easier for Zach to breathe, to relax and enjoy the party himself. He ate a few sandwiches, grinning when Becky laughed at the face he made when he stuffed a banana and peanut butter one in his mouth. She rescued him with a glass of root beer as he scraped his tongue with his teeth and wiped his mouth with a napkin.

“Not a fan of bananas?” She asked.

He shook his head. “Peanut butter. I can’t stand the texture. It’s an insult to the banana to put them together.” He gulped down the root beer, then took an egg salad sandwich. “These, however, I could eat every day.”

She bit her bottom lip. Her blush made her adorable as she whispered, “I’d make it for you, Sir.”

He took another and winked at her. “I may take you up on that.”

When it came time for presents, he took Becky aside, speaking quietly as he pulled an envelope out of the back pocket of his jeans. “I meant to ask you earlier—I figured I should before I give it to her. With how passionate she is about hockey, I thought she might like to join a minor novice team. I got a gift certificate to cover the equipment and paid the registration . . . it can all be refunded if you don’t like the idea, though, so don’t worry about—”

“Oh, Zach, it’s too much!” Becky took a deep breath, staring at the envelope as though he’d just signed over a million dollar check. She covered her mouth with a hand. “I know how expensive it is—I looked into it last year when she asked to join.”

In other words, you shouldn’t have. Seriously. Idiot. He kept his smile in place. “I can get her something—”

“I could strangle you and Scott. No, you don’t have to get her something else.” Becky folded her arms over her breasts, giving him a stern look. “Yes, my pride is grumbling because I couldn’t afford to do this for her, but I won’t let it deny her the opportunity.”

“All right.” Zach frowned at the envelope. Would a six-year-old really understand a gift like this? Maybe he should have gotten some equipment to go along with the papers, but he’d thought she’d want to pick it out with her mother. He handed the envelope to Becky. “This doesn’t fit with everything else she’s gotten, so—”

“Oh yes, it does.” Becky snickered as Casey unwrapped an Under Armour shirt and leggings. The little girl looked confused for a bit, but when Chicklet explained what it was for, she got excited and decided she needed to try it on right away. Becky stopped her daughter from stripping right there. “Poupée, not here. Unwrap the rest of your gifts, and then I’ll help you try them on upstairs.”

“Sorry, Maman.” Casey giggled, then tore into her next gift. Hockey books from Carter and Ramos. She gave Ramos pretty eyes, scooting up next to him on the sofa as she asked him to read Z is for Zamboni to her. At Becky’s shrug, Ramos cleared his throat, and the other children all sat on the floor around him.

The way Jami was staring at Ramos—Zach glanced over to where Richter stepped in with Silver tucked to his side, then exchanged a look with Becky as Richter shook his head and loosened his tie as though it was suddenly strangling him.

Scott sidled up to Zach’s other side, nudging him with an elbow. “I think boss man’s going to be a grandpa soon.”

“I think you’re right,” Becky said, jutting her chin toward Carter, who was standing at the other side of the room, cooing to Amia who he’d temporarily gotten Landon to hand over. “One way or another.”

“You’re going to be the next Karen Koch. Yes, you are. You are.” Carter didn’t seem to notice there was anyone else in the room. And only Vanek seemed likely to tease him about the baby talk.

Vanek’s lips barely parted when Chicklet leaned close to him, a smile on her lips, but her eyes hard enough to crack cement. A few quiet words from her and it didn’t look like Vanek would open his mouth again during the party.

When Ramos finished reading, Casey grabbed her next gift. New skates from Landon and Richter. Becky moved forward to stop her from stuffing her feet in them. Had her open the next few gifts, leaving Zach’s and the largest one for last.

“This is from Scott,” Becky said as Casey knelt in front of the huge present.

Casey swallowed, opening the gift slowly, peeling off each piece of tape as though to prolong the reveal. The chatter around the room quieted as Casey let out a loud gasp. Her eyes were bright as she ran her hand over the wood. Stared at the unicorns on the top. Opened it and peered inside.

“Oh, Mr. Demyan! All my babies have a home now!” She jumped up and launched herself at Scott. “You are the bestest!”

Surprisingly, Scott didn’t look uncomfortable with Casey hugging him. He crouched down, hugged her back, and flicked one of her ribbon-tied pigtails. “I’m glad you like it, pipsqueak. But it’s either Scott or just Demyan if you want to call me what all the other guys do.”

“Demyan, then,” Casey said after careful consideration. “That’s what I yell when you miss an easy shot.”

The men and Chicklet burst out laughing. Becky let out a surprised “Casey!” in her mom voice. Scott snorted, then picked Casey up to sit on his shoulders. He grinned up at her. “I’ll keep that in mind next time I’m on the ice. I wouldn’t want you to be disappointed in me.”

“Besides Uncle Landon, you’re the best player in the league.” Casey giggled at the chorus of “Hey!” from the other men. “You’re all a close third.”

“All right, last present. This is from Zach.” Becky handed the envelope up to Casey. “Then we’ll have some party games.”

Casey clutched the envelope, then glanced over at the small pile of equipment by the sofa. Her lips parted, but she quickly pressed them shut and went to work on opening the envelope. She blinked at the papers after pulling them out, sounding out the words slowly since she often had trouble reading out loud. “Minor no . . . vice. Hockey . . . hockey team?” She seemed confused at first. Then her mouth formed a wide O. “Really? Really, truly I can, Mommy?”

“Yes, Casey,” Becky said, beaming up at Zach in a way that made him feel like the king of the freakin’ world. Like he’d just offered her daughter the moon and the stars. His chest swelled, and he laughed as Casey shook her head like she still couldn’t believe it.

“Arrête ton char, maman! Vraiment?”

Landon choked back a laugh from across the room. “Casey, that’s rude. Your mother wouldn’t bluff about something like this.”

Wiggling until Scott put her down, Casey came over to Zach. She was much more hesitant with him than she’d been with Scott, but something about her tone squeezed his heart. “Thank you, Zach. I love all my presents, but . . . this is something I’ve wanted for so long.”

“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.”