Bonds of Courage (13 page)

She sniffed but continued to hold his gaze. “I stayed until you woke up. I made sure you were fine. Your aftercare was seen to before I left.”

“By definition, that’s true,” he conceded. “But it’s not what I wanted. Not completely.”

The chill that came through the air was almost tangible. Her entire body tensed, hands fisting and jaw tightening in time with the flat expression that dropped over her features. There was no more than six feet separating them, but she was pulling away, even if her feet didn’t move.

“Then what did you want?” The tightness to the words fit her rigid posture. She was being cordial, but he longed for the fire. The heat he’d felt just an hour ago.

“You.” He ached to step closer, to push, but he held his ground, putting the emotion in his voice. “I want to wake up in your arms. I want to hold you or be held—whichever works for you. I want to give something back to you. Cherish you for what you gave to me.” He shook his head and wiped a hand over his mouth. “I can’t do that if you’re not there.”

Her breath seemed to come in faster puffs, but he couldn’t be certain. His were, though. He’d laid it out there and he wasn’t backing down. Was it a hard limit? It just might be now that he knew how awful it was to wake up alone. But he also wouldn’t let her use it as a way to end their play.

“I don’t require that,” she said, her words soft but empty.

“Maybe. But I wish to give it to you anyway.” He swallowed, his throat raw with hope and fear.

She glanced away, a big inhale pushing her chest out before she turned back to him. “How do you feel now? Does your bottom hurt too much?”

The breath he’d been holding eased out of him. She had a way of making him do that. It was like he was constantly skating too close to the blue line, staying just outside, waiting for the puck to cross before he could break and go after it.

He let his smile show. Hell, he couldn’t have kept it back if he tried. “My ass hurts like a bitch, but it’s all good. Great, actually.” He dared a small step forward, encouraged when she didn’t retreat. “You were amazing downstairs. I can’t...” He shook his head. “I can’t put it into words, but you gave me what I’ve been craving for so damn long.”

“Did you use the cream?”

“Yeah.” He wasn’t fooled by the topic change but went with it anyway. “Thanks.”

“Good.”

“What can I do to thank you?” He pushed now. “To show my appreciation?”

Her smile when it came was soft and genuine. His heart did a flip and he promised himself right there that he’d get more of those out of her. “You already did when you gave yourself to me.”

“No,” he insisted. “That’s not enough.” Not for him.

Her sigh pierced the air between them. “I don’t cuddle, Holden. I wasn’t raised as a touchy-feely person.” She crossed her arms again, shrugging. “It’s not me. I can’t give you that.”

He respected what she said. Not everyone was raised with the constant hugs and love that he’d had. Yet he wanted like hell to show her how good it could be. How a simple hug could change a day and what a touch could mean.

And that wasn’t going to happen tonight.

Switching plays, he lowered himself to his uninjured knee and bowed his head. “Thank you, Mistress. The Scene was perfect. With your blessing, I would love to have another Scene with you.” He kept his eyes down and his breath steady, despite his racing pulse. He was back at the blue line, waiting for her to dump the puck in.

His eyes squeezed closed in silent thanks when her feet came into view. But it was the touch of her fingers threading through his hair that tore the breath from his chest and sent his heart into overdrive. He arched into her touch, chasing the chills that raced down his scalp, hoping for more.

“What am I going to do with you, Holden?” Her question was mumbled more than asked, and he was smart enough not to answer, even though he wanted to scream, “Keep me.” She made another pass through his hair, her fingers raking the strands away from his face in an idle caress. “Next Friday. Be here at seven.”

Fuck yes
. A wave of pure relief flushed through him and he leaned forward to press a kiss to her hipbone. The fresh scent of soap and laundry detergent flooded him. Simple and pure. So different again from her musky perfume, yet just as much her. “Thank you, Mistress.”

They weren’t in the playroom, but she was very much his Mistress right then. In truth, it didn’t matter what she’d said. A part of her was always his Mistress, no matter where they were.

Chapter Thirteen

Vanessa flinched, the ring of a cell phone startling her out of her zone. Damn. The ringtone had her sighing. Why in the hell was she sighing so much lately?

She snatched up the phone and answered it. “What, Liv?”

“Hello to you too, sis.”

Her sister’s chipper tone had Vanessa biting back another sigh. She rubbed her brow and dug up the patience that had evaporated somewhere around last Friday night. Or was it last month?

“Hi, sis. What can I do for you?” Her tone was better this time.

“Rough day?”

“No worse than usual.” She glanced at the headlines on the computer screen and silently groaned. Baby claims were nothing new, but they were still a pain in the ass to manage. Most often they were false, not that the public cared. An allegation equaled a verdict by the majority unless the scam was quickly shut down or revealed.

“That good, huh? Bummer for you.”

The lack of sarcasm in Liv’s voice had Vanessa chuckling. “Yeah. I guess so.” She swung her chair around, reaching for a file. “Busy as usual. Did you call for a reason?”

“Oh, yeah.” Liv laughed. “Mom told me to remind you about the Fourth of July party.”

And there was another sigh. “The same one she’s had every year since we were kids? That one?” Yeah, there was nothing
but
sarcasm in her voice.

“Hey. Don’t shoot the messenger.” Vanessa could picture Liv raising her hands in defense like she did whenever she played the middleman. “I’m just doing as I was told.”

Vanessa snorted. “Since when do you do what you’re told?”

“Seriously? I always do what I’m told.”

That was too true. Liv was the good little sister, which is probably why she was their parents’ favorite too. But then, everyone loved Liv.

“I’ll be there, like always,” Vanessa said. “What am I supposed to bring this year?”

“A date?”

It was Vanessa’s turn to laugh. “Right. I will when you do. No, wait,” she interjected. “I take that back.”

“Too late,” Liv sang into the phone. “I heard that and I’ll raise you one.”

“Oh, God. What now?” Vanessa dropped her head into her palm, but a smile stayed on her lips.

“I’ll bring two dates. One for me and you.”

She shot up. “Oh, don’t you dare, Liv.” Her sister’s laughter filtered over the phone. “I’m serious. I don’t need a date—or a man, for that matter.”

“Right. The Ice Queen doesn’t need to be loved. I know better, V. That event didn’t destroy your heart.”

The barb hit too close to home after her encounter with Holden. She closed her eyes and refused to think of the night so many years ago, or last Friday and the man who was working his way around her Ice Queen shell far too easily. “Yeah? Well, don’t share the knowledge, okay?” She forced a light laugh. “That’d kill my image.”

There was a short pause before Liv said, “I love you, V. I don’t like seeing you so alone.”

“Me?” Vanessa tossed back, wincing at the sharp ache that seized her heart. Her sister would never understand that being alone was a necessity more than a choice for her. “I haven’t seen you with a boyfriend in ages, so don’t start lecturing me on being alone. Besides,” she added, her voice lightening as the pain subsided in her chest. “It’s not like we’ll ever find men who can survive our family.”

Liv chuckled, her tone soft with agreement. “Just because every marriage in our family has ended in divorce doesn’t mean ours would, too.” Ever the optimist, her sister might believe what she said, but there wasn’t much force in her words.

“Maybe for you, little sis.”

“Okay,” Liv burst out after a second of silence. “That about does it for the good ’ole trip down emotional lane.” She gave a raw laugh. “Bring a dessert or two. The full crowd will be there.”

That was code for their cousin Rick would be there. Of course he would be. Vanessa let it slide. “Will do. See you Thursday.”

They said their goodbyes, but her thoughts lingered on their conversation. She’d actually forgotten the holiday. Not the party itself, but the fact that it was only two days away had slipped her mind.

The pounding in her temple tapped out a Morse code of to-dos that wouldn’t get finished by her sitting there. A quick call to a bakery near her house had the dessert issue sorted out. Chocolate cupcakes and brownies were always a hit and easy to eat at a picnic.

“Angie,” she called out through the open door.

“Yes?” The reply was faint before her assistant appeared in the doorway, a notepad and pen poised in her hand.

“Get Mickels on the phone, then track down the name and number of his accuser.”

“I’m already on it,” Angie said. “I’ve also got a call in to the reporter who broke the story.”

“Thank you.” Vanessa swung back to her computer screen. “I also need to talk to the owner.” The article said the transgression took place in the manager’s office at a popular sports bar in St. Paul.

“Got it. Anything else?” Angie looked up, brows raised. Vanessa shook her head, her focus on the current fire she had to douse. “I have your travel arrangements confirmed for next week, too. I’ll shoot you the confirmations and load the details on to your calendar.”

She glanced at her assistant. “Great. Oh.” She snapped her fingers. “Did you get the hockey camp schedules organized? I have to book in the reporter interviews soon.”

Angie lowered her notepad, smiling. “I sent those to you yesterday.”

Vanessa sighed. “Of course you did.” Her weak smile held the weariness she couldn’t seem to shake. “Sorry. I think that’s it for now.”

Angie nodded. “How about two aspirin and a roast beef sandwich for lunch? I’ll even add a couple of truffles as a side.” She gave a conspiratorial wink that had Vanessa grinning.

“That’d be great.” Though she doubted the sandwich would be consumed, the thought was appreciated. As were the painkillers.

Angie left, and Vanessa dove back into her work. Family and personal issues would be dealt with later. And there was no way she was analyzing how much time she’d spent stewing over her personal issue called Holden.

Chapter Fourteen

Walters smacked Holden on the back as he walked past. “You got plans for tomorrow?”

He shook his head. “Not really.” He pulled his T-shirt over his head and shook out his hair. “You?”

“Rylie’s having that party.” Walters glanced up from slipping his sandals on. “You’re not going?”

Dylan Rylie was a second line defenseman who was still working through his wild years. The parties on his lakefront property tended to be packed with jersey chasers and anyone looking for free liquor. Something Holden had outgrown a few years back.

“Maybe,” he hedged.

“Yeah,” Walters agreed. He grabbed his duffel from the bench and slammed the locker door closed. “That scene gets old, fast.”

Walters was a year older than Holden, and they’d both done the party rounds like most newbies did when everything was fresh and overwhelming. Years of skating couldn’t prepare someone for the sudden flood of money, fame and attention that came with entering the pros. Most of them took advantage of what was offered, including the women, until the novelty wore off.

Holden grabbed his bag and followed his teammate out of the locker room. The private gym was fairly empty at that time of the morning, one of the reasons he liked working out there.

“Give me a call if you want to hang out.” Walters clicked the remote lock on his truck. “Or if you hear of something better to do. Fuck, a beer at a bar would be better than Rylie’s.”

“You got that right,” Holden agreed with a chuckle as he unlocked his SUV and tossed his bag inside. “I’ll see you at the rink.”

He exited the parking lot and drove to the youth center. The air conditioning cooled the interior against the muggy humidity that declared July had arrived. As he parked, he guessed that the gym at the youth center would be stifling.

“Hey, Mr. Hauke,” Jimmy called out as Holden passed down the hallway.

Holden turned and stuck his head into the room. A group of kids were spread out at different tables, painting new masterpieces. “Hey, kids,” he said. “Those are some cool pictures you’ve got going there.”

“This one’s for you,” Jimmy said, the pride showing in his puffed chest and wide grin.

Holden stepped up beside the table to admire the impressive rendition of a hockey player in action. The number 15 on the royal blue and gold jersey indicated it was supposed to be Holden. He gave the kid a big smile. “I love it. Thank you.”

“Look at mine, Mr. Hauke.”

A chorus of like calls had Holden admiring every piece of work before he escaped. He’d probably have a stack of paintings to take home with him when he left. That was so cool.

He found Liv in the cramped room that served as her office. His knock had her jerking up from her hunched position over the desk. “Oh, hey.” She beamed, twisting her neck to stretch it.

“What are my tasks for today?” He rubbed his hands together, brows waggling. “More hockey? Or are we on to another sport now?”

He hadn’t told her about the new supply of basketballs and baseball equipment he’d stashed in the storage closet when he’d arrived. He figured she’d find them soon enough.

Two basketball games, one floor hockey match and few rounds of wall ball later, Holden was wiping the sweat from his neck and dreaming of the cold ice rink. A glance at the clock showed he needed to head out if he didn’t want to be late for the ice time.

“You have plans for the long weekend?”

He tucked the towel into the back of his shorts and shook his head at Liv. “Nothing big.” He busied himself corralling balls into the bin to hide his thoughts from her. His evening with Vanessa in two nights was very big on his list, but that wasn’t something Liv would ever know about.

“Really?” she asked, the doubt etched into her frown.

“Nope. You?” The center was closed for the long holiday weekend, so he assumed she’d be heading out for some relaxation.

Her calculating stare had him shoving the balls into the bin so he could make his escape. He’d seen that look too many times, and it never resulted in anything good for him. “So no plans tomorrow?”

“Ah.” He kept his back to her, cramming the now-overstuffed bin with the last of the balls. “Hanging with some friends probably.” He really didn’t want Liv mad at him, but he sucked at lying.

“And you’re not one of V’s clients?”

He reared up, his head clipping the edge of the metal ball container.
Fuck
. He rubbed the spot, scowling. “What do you mean?” Guilt had his defenses up fast and hard. It was none of her business if Vanessa was his Mistress.

“She’s not your PR rep, right?” Liv was eyeing him like he’d sprouted horns.

He puffed out a laugh and shook his head, his pulse slowing. God, he was being stupid. “Right. I thought we covered that already.”

Her whole face brightened with a wide smile. “Great! So do you want to come to my family’s Fourth of July picnic tomorrow?”

Damn. He should’ve avoided this one better. He’d sensed her invite coming and there was no way he could go as her date. He was shaking his head to turn her down when she jumped forward, grabbing his arm.

“Oh, geez. I don’t mean as my date or anything,” she rushed on, her cheeks flushing pink. “I’m really just being nice. No ulterior motives. I swear.”

“Then why the third degree?”

“Because V would kill me if I invited one of her clients to a family picnic.”

Holden rested against the ball bin, the offer ruminating in his mind. He grabbed the towel and wiped his face, stalling for time. “I don’t want to intrude.”

Liv waved his objection off. “Trust me, you won’t be. I always invite the people I work with. Shelly and Joan will be there. But I should warn you, my family’s a bit unique.”

Now he was really intrigued. He crossed his arms, the invite sounding more appealing by the second. “Vanessa probably won’t appreciate me being there.”

“And she’s not the host, so it doesn’t matter.”

He studied Liv, the pros and cons volleying in his mind. One thing had to be clear before he could consider the offer further. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not interested in dating you, Liv.”

“Well, thank God for that.” She softened her gibe with a smile and a mocking eye roll. “Nothing personal, but you’re really not my type.”

“Ouch.” He faked a wound to his chest before he laughed. “We’re cool then?”

“Of course. Geez. Like I’d risk losing the kids’ favorite new volunteer for a date.”

He wasn’t sure how to take that, so he let it go. “Did I tell you Vanessa threatened bodily harm if I even thought of hitting on you?”

“I’m sure she did.” Liv nudged his arm before heading toward the exit. “But since you haven’t and you’ve just wounded my precious ego by telling me you have no interest in these luscious hips...” She paused to sway them enticingly in front of him. “Then we’re good.”

His booming laugh echoed off the walls of the gym. Between the two sisters, he was probably a dead man. But damn, they were refreshing.

“You can bring a friend if you’re afraid to come alone,” Liv said over her shoulder. “But I swear we only bite if you want us to.”

Fuck.
The spots on his back gave off false tingles at the memory of Vanessa’s teeth biting into his skin. He cleared his throat and quickly adjusted himself before Liv saw. “This is sounding like a party I can’t miss.”

She spun around, ponytail flying, face beaming. “Great. I’ll text you the details. Mom is going to love you. And Dad’s all gruff with nothing behind it.”

He was going to meet his Mistress’s parents. Now that was going to be interesting. “Should I bring anything?”

“Nah. There’s always more food than we can eat.” Liv headed toward the kitchen, calling behind her with a wave. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

He headed for his car, grinning. Vanessa would be pissed at both of them, he was pretty certain of that. But hell, it was just a party and it wasn’t like he was going to kneel at her feet and wait for her every command. Not there at least.

Now Friday was a whole different story.