Chapter 26: Chapter Twenty-Six

The rink echoed with the joyous sound of the children’s light laughter mingling with the deeper laughter of the men. Landon had come out with Amia to show her off, then shocked Becky by laying his daughter in her arms so he could put on his skates and join in the fun. He moved very slowly and Dean hovered close to him as though unsure if his leg had healed well enough, but Landon simply grinned at him, taking one of Casey’s hands while Zach took the other. Casey had never worn hockey skates before and she was a little unsteady, but gained some confidence with the support of the two men.

Today was absolutely perfect. Exactly what my baby deserves.

Becky put her finger in Amia’s little hand, holding her niece close to her chest as she perched on the hard wood player’s bench. She glanced over as Silver sat beside her. The young woman had dark circles under her bloodshot, green eyes. There was tenderness in her eyes as she gazed down at her daughter, but when the thick, pink flannel blanket slipped off Amia’s little kicking legs, she moved as though to fix it, then dropped her hand.

“It gets a bit chilly down here; I don’t want her to—”

Nodding slowly, Becky fixed the blanket, tilting her head slightly as she studied Silver’s pale face. “Silver, sweetie, talk to me.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” Silver inched away, hugging herself. “I don’t know what anyone wants from me. I’m trying.”

“I know you are.” Becky cradled Amia in one arm and took Silver’s hand. “I just need you to know you’re not alone.”

Silver inhaled deeply, then inclined her head, a tight smile on her dry lips. “Thank you. I don’t deserve that with how nasty I’ve been to you. I really do appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

“You’re family.” Becky smiled as Silver leaned over, resting her head on Becky’s shoulder. She kissed the top of Silver’s head, then kept perfectly still as Silver freed her hand to touch Amia’s cheek. Amia’s made a little cooing sound.

“She’s so comfortable with you,” Silver said.

“She knows she has a lot of people who love her.” Becky lifted her head and searched out Casey on the ice. She frowned as Casey stood by Scott, taking shots at the net with her new stick. She couldn’t hear what Casey was saying, but she looked angry. Her face was red and she threw her stick down after missing the net. “Oh, boy. Can you take her, chérie? I need to see to my little angel.”

“Ah . . . yeah. I guess.” Silver held her breath as Becky placed Amia in her arms. When Amia didn’t wake, she seemed to relax a bit. “Go ahead. I’ll be fine.”

By the time Becky reached the door to the player’s bench, Zach was there, carrying Casey. Casey was crying, whispering sorry over and over.

“My head hurts, Mommy. And my throat hurts.” Casey covered her mouth and let out a dry cough. “I didn’t mean to be a brat.”

“Oh, poupée . . .” Becky brushed Casey’s cheek with her fingertips. She was a little warm. “It’s okay. Let’s get you changed. Zach, would you mind . . . ?”

“I’ve got her.” Zach’s tone held some surprise, as though he’d expected her to take Casey from him. He gave Becky a hesitant smile, then carried Casey into the locker room. He knelt to take off Casey’s skates. “Do you want me to drive you to the hospital?”

Becky grinned. She had a feeling Zach would be just as bad as Landon if he took a permanent role in Casey’s life. Landon wanted to bring Amia to the hospital every time she got a little cranky. Thankfully, Dean had enough experience raising Jami to talk him down.

“No, but you can drive us home if you want. I’ll have Landon drop my car off later.”

“You sure?” Zach put his hand over Casey’s forehead as she let out another weak cough. “She has a fever.”

“Children get them sometimes. It’s probably just a cold—maybe the flu.” Becky crouched down in front of Casey. “Want me to make you some of my special chicken soup? It made you feel all better last time.”

Casey pouted. “I’m not hungry.” She wrinkled her nose and looked at Zach. “Maybe later, but only if Zach stays to have some too.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” Becky glanced at Zach, pleased when he nodded. He still seemed worried, but he’d feel better once Casey was tucked in her bed, resting peacefully. It warmed her heart to see how he reacted to her baby not feeling well. She had to be careful about letting him get too involved too quickly, but she wouldn’t worry about that now. Right now he needed to know Casey would be all right. And Casey would be happy to know he wanted to stick around.

That was all that mattered.

* * * *

That was . . . pretty easy. Zach combed his fingers through his hair—which badly needed to be shaved again. He felt awkward standing in Becky’s kitchen as she fixed them up some coffee. He had to admit, he’d panicked a bit when he’d realized Casey had a fever. Sure, Mathew had gotten sick before, but he was such a tough little kid. Casey was delicate. So tiny.

Becky had handled everything perfectly. She gave Casey a purple strip of medicine, tucked her into bed, then had him sit with the little girl while she fixed her a green tea with honey. He’d read her The Hockey Sweater—the other book from Ramos—and smoothed her sweat-soaked curls from her forehead. While Becky had set up the humidifier, Casey had asked Zach for a lullaby. He didn’t know any, so he sang her “Mama Said” by Metallica.

Any second, he’d expected Becky to tell him it wasn’t appropriate. But she’d simply taken a seat at the other side of the bed, holding Casey’s hand, and looking at him in a way that made him sing all the way to the end of the song. Even though Casey had fallen asleep. Even though there was really no reason for him to stay.

And yet . . . every reason.

“Zach, please sit down.” Becky put a heavy, black stoneware mug in front of him, then pulled a chair up close. “I have to tell you . . .”

Zach lowered into the chair, keeping his eyes on Becky’s as he took a sip of coffee. The uncertainty in her level gaze shifted his thoughts from how badly he’d handled her daughter being sick, back to the issues he had with the precious little girl’s mother. “Go ahead.”

“You don’t have to do any of this. Read to her, sing her lullabies. But when you do, I can’t help but think . . .” She dropped her gaze to the table. “It scares me how much I want this to continue. I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop. The first Dom I played with after my divorce wanted complete honesty too. I was very upfront with my expectations—which were that I had none. He knew I was a mother and that I wasn’t looking for a daddy for my daughter. That I wasn’t looking for a long-term relationship. I wanted to explore the other side of myself, but I was determined to keep my needs separate. I still am. I just don’t know how that works. I never thought I’d have to figure that out. But now . . .”

Zach rubbed his jaw, nodding slowly. “Is BDSM all we have, Becky?”

Things were going well. They were finally talking, and he felt good about where this was going. But her next words were like a solid kick straight to his guts.

“I don’t know . . . maybe.”

He refused to lose his temper. He refused to take it as an insult. She didn’t know . . . well, he’d wanted honesty, hadn’t he?

“Let me know when you do.” He set down his mug and pushed away from the table. She stood, shaking her head and looking like she wanted to say more, but he couldn’t listen. He couldn’t sit here and have her tell him he was nothing more than her Dom. Because he couldn’t be that to her. He held up one hand and shook his head. “Becky, your daughter is sick. We can have this discussion some other time. Maybe when I get back from the preseason road trip.”

“Zach, you’ll be gone for over a week!” She grabbed his arm. “Please don’t leave like this. Let me explain.”

“Not now.” He glanced down at her arm, his lips in a thin line. She let him go. “In a week, maybe you can clear things up for me, because at this point, I have no idea what else I can do. Training has me worn out and this—” he gestured from her to himself “—has me exhausted.”

“Are you serious?” Becky followed him to the door and stared at him as he put his shoes on. “You asked me to talk to you, and when you don’t like my answer, you run?”

He straightened, shaking his head and laughing bitterly. “I’m not running. I don’t know how you expected me to react. You told me you loved me. Apparently you only ‘loved’ what I could do for you as a Dom.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You said you don’t know. I don’t think it’s unreasonable for me to need a clear answer,” he said in the most controlled voice he could manage. “If I told you I only loved you when you were on your knees, you’d call me an asshole.”

Her eyes narrowed. “So now I’m an asshole?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“You know what, fuck you.” She held the door open and gave his shoulder a little shove. “Get out.”

“Gladly.” He strode out, almost walking right by his car, grinding his teeth as he got in. What a fucking mess. This wasn’t at all how he’d wanted their conversation to go. He’d completely lost control of what needed to be said.

Which fit. He’d never had any control when it came to Becky. Only the illusion.

* * * *

In his suit, all ready for the road trip, Scott sat on the edge of Casey’s bed, leaning across the tray set up over her lap and opening his mouth wide for a spoonful of chicken noodle soup. Casey giggled as he made an appreciative sound in the back of his throat. He grinned at her, licking his lips. The soup was freakin’ good. Nothing like the canned kind. The flavor of the spices warmed him from the inside out. And so did Casey laughing even though she didn’t feel well.

Becky sighed as she stepped into the room. “Scott, you’re going to end up catching her cold. If you want some soup, I’ll get you some.”

“Ha! A nasty little cold don’t bother a big tough hockey player.” Scott let Casey feed him another bite of her lunch. Of course, Becky was right, but Casey had been so excited about him trying her mommy’s soup he hadn’t even considered that he might get sick. And hell, even if he did, no big deal. Maybe Stephan would get off his ass about being early for every practice to make up for the ones he missed last season if he got a cold and still played. He really shouldn’t tempt fate though. He gave Becky his most charming look. “I’d love a bowl though, sweet thang.”

Casey giggled again as Becky huffed. “Really, Scott? ‘Sweet thang’?”

“Honey pie? Dearie?” He chuckled, holding up his hands before Becky gave in to her obvious urge to smack him. “I’ve never tasted anything so delicious.” Liar. But he wasn’t going to bring that up in front of her kid. “May I please have a bowl, Becky?”

“Yes, you may.” Becky started for the door, then paused, giving him a look that had his heart doing funny little flips. “Thank you for coming over. Casey wanted to see . . . wanted to see you.”

Now Becky was lying. Casey had probably wanted to see Zach, but the man was in a mood. He hadn’t even answered his phone last night, and this morning he’d just curtly told Scott he’d see him on the plane. Scott had a bad feeling there was something going on between Zach and Becky that hadn’t been worked out. And seeing as they were leaving in an hour, probably wouldn’t be.

While Becky was getting his soup, Casey offered him a few more bites of hers. She was having so much fun feeding him, he decided to throw caution out the window. A cold wasn’t gonna kill him.

His phone buzzed. Stephan, letting him know he’d meet Scott at the airport with some new suits. More suits? Ugh. How many do I need? Scott turned his phone off and shoved it in his pocket. He didn’t have much time left. When Becky returned with his soup, he ate as fast as he could, kissed Casey’s forehead, told her to get better quick, then walked with Becky to the door.

“Hey, you wanna talk about it?” He frowned when Becky refused to look at him and pressed his fingertips under her chin until she did. “It’s none of my business, but I can’t go unless I know you’re okay.”

“You have to go, Scott. It’s not an option.” Becky dropped her stern tone and shook her head. “This is my mess. I don’t how to fix it, but I’ll figure it out. I’m still angry, and I know I have no right to be. So—”

“Don’t give me that.” Scott folded his arms over his chest. “Screw it, I’m gonna be nosy. What happened between you two? Everything seemed cool yesterday.”

“Yes, until we actually spoke to one another, alone. I feel like he’s never going to forgive me—he took something I said the wrong way. Wouldn’t let me clarify. He said he’d give me another chance, but then he doesn’t want to hear a word I have to say and—” Becky groaned. “It’s not all him. I’m just not sure where we go from here.”

“Forward.” Scott closed the distance between them, kissing her before she could counter his very logical answer. Her lips softened under his and her hands flattened against his chest. He whispered, his lips brushing hers as he wrapped his arms around her. “See how easy it is? We’re facing each other. One of us takes the first step—”

“Life doesn’t work that way, Scott. It’s complicated.”

“It doesn’t have to be. You two love each other.” He lifted one hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. “Take it from there. I think you’ve both got some ideas on how it’s supposed to work. Forget all that shit and focus on how it’s gonna work for you.”

“If we could limit it to the lifestyle, that would be simple. We’d have our time when all I’d have to do was submit. That’s not what he wants.”

“Is that all you want? Really, Becky?” He put a finger to her lips and made a hushing sound. “Don’t answer yet. Don’t tell me what I want to hear, or what you think is the right choice.” He took her hand and placed it over her heart, holding it there under his. “Answer from here.”

Becky’s bottom lip trembled. “From here? From here is where the brilliant idea of marrying Patrick came from. I thought I loved him too. Hell, I did love him. Which made me miserable and left my daughter without a father. I can’t do that again.”

“You know, I kinda get how the whole trust in BDSM thing works.” Scott cocked his head. “Would you ever have let Patrick tie you up?”

She gave him a horrified look. “No!”

“Those other Doms—you ever play with them alone? Bring them home or go to their place?”

“Of course not.”

“Then why did you do that with Zach? What made him different?”

“I knew him as a man. I felt . . . I felt like I could trust him.” Becky sighed and leaned her forehead on his chest. “I do trust him, but—”

“Becky, I think you need to learn to trust you a little more. You’re older and wiser than you were when you were with Patrick, right? It was, like, a learning thing.” He hugged her tight, one last time, before moving toward the door. “Use this week to think about that. About what you want to say to Zach.” He glanced up the stairs as Casey coughed and cried out for her mother. “When you’re not working or doing the mommy thing I mean.”

Becky laughed, quickly wiping away the sheen of tears under her eyes. “When did you get to be so smart?”

“’Bout five minutes ago.” He cuffed her chin lightly. “Now it is my sorry task to go have this chat with Zach. Not about what you said; that’s all on you.” He sucked his teeth and stepped out on to the porch. “There’s no reason you shouldn’t have been able to tell him all this. It’s all good that he wants you to talk to him. But that man’s got to learn to listen.”