Coop
“Psst!” Max hissed.
Coop looked up from his stall, and his teammate gave him a nod.
“Thanks,” he mouthed, knowing he’d owe him one.
Operation Out-Stubborn had transformed into Operation Woo and because his team were a bunch of nosy assholes—and also really cool—they were on his side. Well, that and Calle had apparently told Mandy who’d told Brit about the carrot cake and the peanut butter M&Ms and the app and . . . well, the jig had been up when he’d sat next to her on the plane, but now it was really up.
The side benefit was that now he had backup.
Of the Brit, Stefan, Mike, Max, Mandy, and the dual-Rebeccas sort. And that didn’t even count the head trainer, Gabe, telling him to “Keep at it, because it’s worth it in the end” or Blue’s fist bump when he saw Coop delivering a peanut-butter slathered bagel to Calle’s office that morning.
Whatever the title, his plan was working.
Calle had opened the door a sliver, and he was working on nudging it just a millimeter wider at a time until he had full access.
And the team was helping.
Max included.
Calle was currently on the other side of the room, talking to Blue while Max accomplished his task. Mostly because when she’d walked into the room, she’d pointed a finger at Coop and told him to behave.
Which made the room at large cackle.
Because they’d all seen the giant jar of peanut butter he’d bought and left outside her office door before the game. Mostly because they’d had to walk by it—a jaunty red bow wrapped around its lid—to get to the ice.
“How am I supposed to get that home?” she’d asked, stopping two feet inside the room, hands plunking onto her hips as she glared at him.
“I figured you’d finish it before the next plane ride.”
Narrowed eyes, upturned lips, and then finally . . . finally she met him in the middle. Well, the side, anyway. She’d crossed the space and laid a kiss on him that had the whole room catcalling before she released him and calmly walked to the other side of the space, as though she regularly kissed him in front of a gaggle of hockey players.
After his pulse had settled, he’d glanced at Max.
His friend was already prepped and had slipped out to leave just one more thing outside her office.
The perfect complement to the peanut butter . . . or at least that was what she’d tried to convince him of the night before—that there was no snack more perfect than peanut butter and apples.
So, he gave her both.
He couldn’t wait to see her reaction.
Slowly, she made her rounds with the offense as everyone removed their equipment and took their turns in the shower. She checked in with everyone except for him. Or rather, she left him for last, he realized, when she came to sit next to him, iPad in hand.
They went through a few clips Dani, the video coach, had pulled and then her face got soft and she cupped his cheek. “You’re too sweet,” she murmured.
He held her eyes. “You deserve sweet.”
She slowly inhaled. “I’m starting to believe that.” Her eyes flicked around the space. Most of the team had already finished changing and were heading off to complete their post-game routines, so the space was mostly empty. “Thank you.”
He shook his head. “What could you possibly be thanking me for?”
“I don’t know.” She pushed to her feet. “Maybe the peanut butter or the candy or the cake?”
“You’re not thanking me for the cake,” he said.
Her face was way too serious for something as simple as a thank you for a piece of cake or a jar of peanut butter, even a really big one.
A sigh. “No, I’m not. It’s—” She faltered for a moment, but he gave her that moment, somehow instinctively knowing that what she was going to tell him was big, something that would make a lot of the pieces come together.
So, he waited, put pushy to the side for the moment.
He gave her that time.
And what she told him made him glad he did it.
“I know we’ve had this weird mix of intimacy and barely knowing each other,” she said hurriedly. “When you said you’d spent the last two years getting to know me even though I purposely made sure to keep my distance, I realized that you were right. Being on a team like this, being in close quarters, our lives were bound to overlap in some ways. It was stupid of me to think they wouldn’t, after spending a lifetime on teams, after experiencing that overlap time and again. It was really fucking too stupid to think that just because I was pretending to be indifferent, I actually was.”
A breath.
“That overlap is the same reason I know Max is obsessed with Skylanders and that Brit loves all boy bands, including for some godawful reason, Hansen.” Her lips curved, but then her eyes went serious. “It’s why I know Brayden”—Max’s son—“just changed his favorite color to rainbow and that Mandy and Blane’s daughter is teething and not sleeping well.” She touched his chest lightly. “It’s also why I know you, Coop. Why I know about your clean car and your obsession for all things cheese. But it’s more than that, too. Because I also know you always felt a little like an outsider, not because the older guys deliberately left you out, but because you’re younger, yet an old soul and so don’t really connect well to younger, single guys or the older ones with families.”
Coop’s throat was tight and fuck him, his eyes actually stung.
He knew he’d been paying attention, but he hadn’t realized that Calle had also been doing the same. Even though she’d been hurt by that asshole Jason, even though something about her past that she hadn’t felt safe enough to share had scarred her, she’d still been paying attention.
“I know that, because growing up, I felt the same. Like I didn’t belong at home”—her expression went sad—“but hockey gave me the space to find my niche . . . and it led me to you. And I’m so damned scared all the time, scared that you’ll weave yourself so deeply into my life and then leave, a-and I’m terrified that you want me now, but that one day you’re going to wake up and realize that it’s not me you want—” She broke off, chest rising and falling, tears slipping from the corners of her eyes. “And I don’t want you to ever feel trapped.”
Coop was quiet for a long moment, waiting in case she needed to say more, but when she didn’t, he carefully wove his arms around her and tugged her into his lap. Brushing back the hair on her face, he asked, “Why would I feel trapped?”
No answer, aside from a long sniff, a hand dashing away tears.
“Baby, I’m the one who’s pushed for this.”
Her chin dropped to her chest, but then she inhaled and exhaled deeply. “So did my dad.”
“What?”
“My dad pursued my mom, pursued her until she finally gave in and then he resented her when she got pregnant.” She made a face. “Unfortunately, not enough to leave. Instead, he married her, made two more kids in quick succession, and then set about making our lives miserable.”
Aw, fuck. “Baby.”
“He was a miserable son of a bitch, but my mom was great, even though it was fucking painful to see her happiness chipped away by him over the years. She tried so hard and . . . nothing she ever did or said mattered.”
His heart fucking ached, but he couldn’t take away her pain, couldn’t make the past not happen. He could, however, listen.
“I think I always knew I was the reason for his unhappiness,” she said quietly. “I think that’s why I tried so hard. His favorite sport was hockey and I vowed to be the best player there was.” She shrugged, mouth turned up in a rueful smile. “Clearly, that didn’t happen, but I was at least able to eventually put that all aside and achieve my own goals, to find my love for the game. But it wasn’t just hockey, I spent my whole childhood being like my mom, trying to please him, desperate for him to be proud and—” A tear slipped out. “He wasn’t able to be that person for me.”
Fury was whipping through him as he wiped the glistening drop away.
“What he was, was a fucking asshole,” Coop snapped then had to force himself to calm his tone. “You figured out how to be a good person for yourself, baby. You did it without him. Made your own way, and you’re really fucking incredible for doing it.”
“I’m just—”
“Insanely smart? Kind? Sassy in a way that makes me want to kiss the sharpness right out of your words and taste that tartness on my tongue?”
Her head started to shake.
He gave in to what he’d been resisting for long moments.
Coop kissed the woman he loved. He kissed her until she melted against him. He kissed her so thoroughly that he barely noticed Richie coming in to collect the discarded equipment, barely heard Brit’s broken-off exclamation when she strode back into the room then quickly left.
He could kiss Calle through a hurricane, through a sandstorm, through a—
She pushed lightly at his chest and he lifted his head, stroking his thumb lightly over her lips.
“Why today?” he asked. “Why tell me all of this today?”
Her brows drew together in question. “What?”
“I guess I’m asking . . . what changed? Why aren’t you scared anymore?”
He’d been expecting a long, drawn-out courtship, winning her over by millimeters, but today she’d just nonchalantly opened the door wide.
“Oh, I’m more scared than I’ve ever been in my life.” She lifted a finger when he started to reply, a reply he bit back because she smiled up at him, eyes reddened from tears, but so warm that he felt that warmth soak into him.
She was more beautiful in that moment than he’d ever seen her, and words simply wouldn’t come.
Hers were better anyway.
Especially when she leaned in, so their lips were almost touching. “Because of that stupid jar of peanut butter. I looked at it, at the red bow, and realized that you’re nothing like my dad. He might have pursued my mom, but he never ever took the time to really get to know her.” She brushed her lips over his. “He didn’t even know her favorite color after having been married for twenty-six years.”
“That’s . . . “
“Classic asshole, which my dad perfected.”
Yeah, he seemed to have done that one thing—and only that thing—really well. Fuck, to think the man missed out on the absolute wonderfulness that was Calle.
Idiot.
“What are you thinking?” she asked, fingers running lightly up and down the outside of his arms. She hadn’t made to move off his lap and he wasn’t ready to let her go, not when she felt so good there.
So, he told her. “That your dad is a fucking asshole.”
Chuckles against his lips then drifting through the fabric of his shirt, soaking into his skin when she rested her forehead on his shoulder.
“You’re right.”
He threaded his fingers in her ponytail and gently lifted her head. “Where are they now?”
“Both gone,” she said, eyes sad. “Mom to cancer and my dad just kind of faded away afterward. My sister lives in New York, and my brother moved to Germany with his partner.”
“You’re on the West Coast all alone.”
“Yes.” She stood up and reached for his hand, squeezing it lightly. “Only today, I realized that I wasn’t alone.” She stared into his eyes, telling him without words that he’d made her feel that way.
“Baby.”
Then she gave him the words.
“Because I realized that I had you.” His heart pulsed when she squeezed again.
“Calle.”
“I love you, Coop.”
“Baby.”
She smiled. “I made a decision when I saw that silly jar of peanut butter in the hall. I realized I had a man who knew me, who cared enough about me to discover all the little details about the things I prefer. The one who took me to my doctor’s appointment and got teary-eyed when he heard my baby’s heartbeat when he wasn’t even the father.” Her hand lifted to his jaw. “So, I decided I was going to stop being afraid. I decided I was going to keep you and pray that you’d want to keep me, too.”
“Cal—”
She opened her mouth, and he decided he’d had enough words.
Coop tugged her against his chest, banding his arms around her and holding her tight. “I’m really pissed . . . you beat me to saying ‘I love you,’ first.”
Her expression had clouded when he’d begun the sentence.
By the end, she was grinning up at him. Then she buffed her knuckles on her chest. “You know what they say about being first,” she teased. “That second place is just the first loser.”
He snorted.
“Well, I’m happy to lose to you, sweetheart.” He bent so their lips were close again. “Especially if it means that I get to kiss you whenever I want.”
She wound her arms around his neck. “I can live with that.”
Coop closed the distance between their mouths and took her at her word.