| |
Stephanie’s words echoed in Lynn’s bones.
Are you scared of change? Or are you scared of love?
What if she was scared of both?
Stephanie hadn’t let her off the hook even after they’d returned home with their brightly coloured eggs safely nestled in small cardboard boxes. They watched through the front window until Makayla’s front door had opened and closed, and then she confronted Lynn again.
“It comes down to a simple question. What would be worse—leaving Prince George with Benjamin, or Benjamin leaving Prince George without you?”
Lynn’s throat swelled and she headed into the kitchen, avoiding Stephanie’s inquiring gaze. She had a rarely used eggcup in a cupboard somewhere, and she opened random doors as she sought frantically to remember why she’d vowed to never move again. “This is my home. I chose this city. It’s the first place I’ve lived for longer than a few months. No one can make me leave it.” Like her father had made her leave everywhere she’d lived before.
“Home isn’t a place,” Stephanie said gently. “Home is the people you love.”
“I loved Lance.” At least at the beginning she had. It wouldn’t serve her purpose to admit her feelings had weakened long before he’d left her. “What good did that do me? At almost forty years old I had to start over, adjust all my plans. I don’t think I’m strong enough to do that again.” There it was. A wooden hourglass-shaped object hiding behind a gravy boat.
“You’re assuming you’ll have to. What if you don’t? What if you and Benjamin are meant to be?”
She turned and stared, tiny box in one hand, wooden cup in the other. “You’re serious. Meant to be? Benjamin’s not my soul mate.” A shiver snaked down her back as she said the words. She didn’t believe in fated love. She didn’t.
But was she willing to throw away a future with Benjamin, the man she loved more than she’d ever thought she could, without a fight? Without giving him a chance to explain himself?
“You’re going to drop those.” Stephanie took the box and eggcup from her nerveless fingers and set them on the table. “I know you had an unsettled childhood, moving from place to place at the whim of your father. But do you honestly see Benjamin dragging you and Oscar along with the same sort of selfishness?”
“He wouldn’t mean to be selfish. He’d do it thinking it was best for us all. But it would still be uprooting Oscar over and over again.”
Stephanie paused at the top of the stairs, her hand on the latch of the baby gate. “Staying rooted in one place doesn’t guarantee happiness. But growing roots with someone, that’s something to cherish.”
As the days passed, Lynn examined her own feelings in a way she never had before. She didn’t consider herself a coward. But was it possible all her careful planning had disguised a fear of new experiences? Had she chosen to stay in one place not to build stability, but to hide her timidity?
Did Oscar deserve a mother who was that feebleminded? Or did he deserve parents with lives that fulfilled and nourished them?
Benjamin had obviously taken her goodbye to heart. He hadn’t reached out to her at all since that night in the lobby of the hotel. If she wanted another chance with him, she would have to take the first step.
Which was why she took the baby monitor into Stephanie’s room at three o’clock on Sunday morning, shook her friend awake, explained what she was planning, and drove to the arena parking lot to await the team’s arrival home after the final game of the season.
––––––––
THE ATMOSPHERE IN THE Canyon Cats bus was still jubilant hours after they’d boarded. Everyone should have been sleeping during the overnight drive, but no one was, too pumped up at making the playoffs with a road win against the Wolverines.
“We did it.” Nechayev clutched the back of Benjamin’s seat and swayed with the motion of the bus. For the first time he could remember, the young player’s eyes were bright with joy and satisfaction. “You said we would, and we did.”
“You deserve it. All of you. Everyone worked their asses off to make it happen.” They’d also received a little help from the hockey gods. An untimely bout of food poisoning had kept the Wolverines’ top scorer out of the line-up and eased their way. That fact didn’t negate the results. “You should try and get some rest. Everyone should. This is only the beginning.”
Nechayev returned to his seat and after a while the chatter faded into rumbling snores and breathy sighs. Benjamin remained wide awake, head resting against the glass of the window at his shoulder, watching the yellow line flash past, the occasional oncoming headlights blinding him for an instant before disappearing.
He wished he could be as excited about making the playoffs as the team was. Damn it, he should be excited. It was, after all, a necessary first step in reaching the championships, which had been his objective all year long.
Somewhere along the way, though, his goal had changed. Well, maybe not his goal, but his desperation to reach it. He’d wanted to win for his father, to prove his belief in Benjamin hadn’t been misguided, simply postponed. His mother’s acceptance and Jujhar’s forgiveness, both of which he’d been granted without having to justify himself, had eased the guilt and anxiety he’d felt for so many years, had made achieving his ambition less penance and more an homage.
And then there was Lynn. Lynn, who had welcomed him into her home, into her life. Who he had fallen in love with, even though he hadn’t realized it until it was too late.
No. He shook his head, blinking the exhaustion from his eyes. It wasn’t too late. It couldn’t be. He just had to figure out how to get her back.
He must have drifted off because the next thing he knew the bus was hissing to a stop outside the arena. It wasn’t yet four in the morning and the world outside the wide windshield was black and bleak. Vehicles waited, some with exhaust curling from their tailpipes, others covered in a dusting of light snow.
Levi rose from his seat across the aisle, stretching and yawning, and then made his way to the back of the bus, waking players as he went. Benjamin gathered his belongings and waited, as was his habit, for everyone to exit before making his own way down the stairs.
Movement in a sheltered alcove at the side of the arena caught his eye and he froze one step from the ground.
What the hell is Lynn doing here?
––––––––
AN ICY WIND BIT LYNN’S ears and wriggled its way down her neck. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out from the doorway. Benjamin stared at her a second longer, and then lowered his foot the last step to the ground and paced toward her.
“What’s going on? Is everything okay?” His dark, intense gaze warmed her to her fingertips.
“Everything’s fine. Everyone’s good.” God, she loved this man. His first thought was never for himself.
“Then why are you here?” A shout drew his attention over his shoulder. “I’ve got to grab my bag so the bus can leave. Don’t move.”
She huddled next to the building until he returned, his compact suitcase gripped in one hand. “It’s freezing out here.” He hitched his messenger bag on his shoulder and wrapped his free fingers around her wrist. “Let’s sit in my car.”
He led her to the vehicle and released her to fish the fob out of his pocket and beep the locks. “Get in.”
She sank onto the stiff, chilled upholstery and shut the door behind her, relieved to be out of the brisk breeze and faintly terrified to be enclosed in such an intimate space with Benjamin. He opened the rear door behind the driver’s seat, tossed his bags into the back, and then climbed in behind the wheel. Starting the engine, he turned the heater to max.
“It’ll take a minute to warm up, but it’s better than outside.” He flicked the wipers on and they swept arcs through the thin film of snow on the windshield.
Cold air rushed out of the vents and she directed them away from her face. She should say something. Now she was with him, though, all her carefully prepared speeches had vapourized. She could feel his gaze on her profile and swallowed, her mouth arid.
“Why are you here, Lynn?” His words were barely audible over the whirr of the heater.
She lifted her chin and turned to face him. “Congratulations on making the playoffs.”
“Thanks.” The hint of defeat in the taut syllable confused her. He should be celebrating. He’d done what he’d set out to do. Knowing the Canyon Cats’ season wasn’t over yet was one of the reasons she’d raced willy-nilly into the winter night to meet him when he got off the bus.
Her heart beat so high and fast she wondered if she was having a panic attack. Putting this off any longer wouldn’t ease her symptoms. She sucked in just-starting-to-warm-up air and blew it out through pursed lips. “I know how busy you’ll be over the next few days. I wasn’t sure when we’d have a chance to talk. That’s why I came.”
“What do we have to talk about?” His expression was wary. She couldn’t blame him. She hadn’t been quite rational when they’d last spoken.
She set about easing his guardedness as best she could. “I owe you an apology for the other night. When you told me about your chance to coach for the new owners.” The announcement of the sale would be made tomorrow morning. Now Benjamin had dragged the team into the post-season, they could announce he’d continue as head coach at the same time. That was the other reason she’d had to talk to him today. She had to tell him how she felt before anything formal had been announced. It was the best way she could think of to show him she was serious. About him, about their relationship.
Also, if what she told him changed his mind, it would be better if nothing was public yet.
God, she hoped he changed his mind.
“You owe me nothing.” His tone was firm. “You’ve never hidden that you don’t want to leave Prince George. I didn’t expect anything else.”
“Not that. I’m apologizing for accusing you of not caring for me and Oscar. I know you do, and that when you asked what was left for you here if the team moved you weren’t talking about us. I’m sorry I took it that way.”
His stiff shoulders softened. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I know.” This was the tricky bit. “I think I know why I took it so poorly.”
“Why?” The lights from the dash lit his face from below, sharpening his cheekbones, glinting off the whites of his eyes.
Here goes nothing. “Because I’ve fallen in love with you, and I don’t want you to go.”
His face went blank. “Say what?”
She gritted her teeth. “I love you. Don’t worry, you don’t have to say it back. But I thought you shou—”
Benjamin’s mouth clamped over hers. With a moan she shifted onto her knees to lean over the console separating them. One hand gripped the back of her skull and the other her hip, dragging her closer. Desperation and desire flared in her belly, coiling and uncoiling like a spring ready to snap.
Well before she was ready, he pulled away. “We have more to talk about.” His lips whispered against hers as if he couldn’t bear to stop tasting her even as he spoke.
She nibbled at the corner of his mouth, the rasp of his whiskers burning her lips. “I know.” So much more. But it could wait. At the moment, all she wanted to do was hold him, be held. Eager to feel him under her palms, she tugged off her gloves and laid her hands flat on his chest, stroking and caressing.
Giving a muffled groan, he lowered his forehead to her shoulder. His hair rustled against the nylon of her collar. “But I can’t. Not until after the playoffs. Maybe even later than that.”
Her soaring relief sputtered and stalled. His intense reaction to her confession had seemed a wordless confirmation that his feelings matched hers. That he’d choose her over hockey.
Had she been wrong? And if she was—what now?
She sank back, taking away his support, and he raised his head. “I understand. This was a bad time to throw this at you.” She kept her tone light despite the dark chasm cracking under her ribs.
He tapped her thigh with a fingertip. “It certainly wasn’t the greeting I thought I’d be getting this morning.” The smile curving his lips didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s just...I have to focus on the team right now.”
“Of course. I said I understand.” Dawn was hours away but the sky had lightened from midnight black to charcoal grey. Her car was the only other vehicle in the parking lot. “You’ve got a full plate.”
She reached for the door handle, suddenly frantic to escape. His grip on her elbow stopped her. She turned her head but couldn’t meet his eyes.
“Yes. More than you know. Nothing is settled yet and I don’t want to jinx it. Will you look at me?” Reluctantly she lifted her gaze. His eyes searched hers and she struggled to hide the gaping wound carving a hollow in her chest. “I promised you once that I would never ghost you again. Be patient with me a little longer? Until the playoffs are over?”
She rubbed her aching temple. “Of course. You know where to find me when you’re ready.”