A Perfect Distraction

He owed her an apology. “Maggie?”

She wouldn’t meet his gaze.

“I’m sorry.”

“I beg your pardon?” Her frosty tone made her cute English accent sharp enough to slice a puck in half.

“I’ve been a jerk.”

She lifted her head and studied him carefully, distrust in the depths of her gaze.

Why? His reputation might not be great but it didn’t warrant her lack of faith in him. Whatever other failings he had, Jake had always prided himself on being a man of his word. He didn’t let people down.

Except for Adam.

His gut twisted as images from the accident flashed through his mind. He’d tried with Adam. Not as hard as you could have. He forced the dark thoughts away.

“I’ve got stuff going on right now, and I was wrong to take out my frustrations on you.”

She said nothing, her expression hard to read.

“These next few weeks are big for me.” He explained about tonight’s practice but played down his fears, afraid if he voiced them he’d jinx himself. Instead, he focused on the challenge ahead. “All the skating I’ve done since the accident has been part of the healing process. Exercises to break down the scar tissue and tone up my leg. Drills to build my fitness levels. Now I’ll see how I hold up to training with contact.”

As if she sensed the nervousness behind his words, concern shimmered in her eyes.

“The docs have given me the green light, so physically I’m good to go.” He rubbed his thigh, feeling the ridges of scars through the denim. “But I have to be one hundred percent up here.” He tapped his temple. “I can’t afford to be hesitant or duck plays. The coach needs to believe I can deliver my A-game from day one and my teammates need to know they can rely on me to do my job.”

Her expression softened. “That’s a lot of pressure.” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry, too. I was unprofessional. It won’t happen again.”

Relief whisked through him. “So we’re okay.”

She paused, then nodded. “You’re not going to fire me, even after what I said?”

“You’re right—I was behaving like a child.” While he was clearing the air, he should explain the rest of it. Well, not about the buttons. “I don’t get why folks can’t tell the truth on those property sheets. We’ll find out anyway. I know what to expect now. I’ll look at tomorrow’s houses with a different mind-set.”

The wariness didn’t disappear, but she seemed less tense as she pulled up in front of his parents’ house. “I’ll see you at Mimi’s tomorrow. Will late morning be okay?”

He grinned. “Sure. I need to pick up some new equipment at nine.”

“How about eleven o’clock, then?”

“Perfect.” He opened the door. “Look forward to it.”

“Me, too.” Her soft smile sent a tiny crack through the ice that had encased his heart since Adam’s death.

As she drove off, Jake walked up the path, whistling.

Tru met him at the door. “You ready to skate?”

“Give me five to get changed and grab my stuff.”

Tru was waiting in the kitchen with the two moms when he returned. “Good day?”

“Nightmare.” Jake told them about the places he’d seen.

“It takes time to find a home.” Aunt Karina patted his arm.

“That’s what Maggie says.”

“She’s a sensible girl.” His mom nodded, her expression serious.

“Pretty as a photo, too,” Aunt Karina added.

“Picture, Mom,” Tru corrected, smiling. “Pretty as a picture,”

Aunt Karina shrugged. “Picture, photo. Is the same, no?”

“Sure.” Before either mom could expand on the subject of Maggie, Jake said, “Gotta hit the road.”

They tossed their gear in the back of Tru’s Range Rover and set off. They’d barely gone a mile before his friend asked, “How’s it going with the lovely Maggie?”

“Okay. It’s harder than I thought to find the right place.”

“That wasn’t what I meant. Have you asked her out yet?”

“Why would I do that?”

Tru quirked an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t you?”

“How many more times do I have to say it? No more women.”

“Yeah, yeah. But Maggie isn’t like your other women.”

“She’s still a distraction I don’t need.” No way he was telling Tru how much of a distraction. “Besides, she looks like the type who wants a serious relationship. And she has a kid.” He stopped, not wanting to overcook his objections. “I sure as hell can’t deal with that now. Maybe next June, after we’ve won the Cup.”

His friend shook his head sadly. “You’re throwing out the baby with the bathwater.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re cutting everything but hockey out of your life. Why? Most NHL players have a life outside hockey.”

Jake glared at him.

“You can’t keep punishing yourself over the crash,” his friend said quietly. “Adam’s death wasn’t your fault. He couldn’t handle that new Porsche. There was nothing you could have done.”

The pain that sliced through Jake’s gut was as acute as if the accident had been last night, not six months ago. “That’s the point—I did nothing. I was more interested in getting to that party and the twin puck bunnies than finding out what was wrong with Adam.”

The truth was he hadn’t wanted to do anything. He’d been fed up with his friend’s volatile, irrational behavior—laughing and joking one minute and erupting angrily the next. Been annoyed that it had affected Adam’s play, making him unreliable. Instead of trying to get to the bottom of his friend’s problems, especially when the media and the fans had been brutal about Adam’s inconsistency, Jake had ignored them, hoping they’d go away.

Some friend he’d been. And Adam had paid the price.

“You weren’t the only one. The whole team, even his roommate, had lost patience with him.” Tru punched his arm. “You aren’t in the cape-and-tights league, bro.”

Jake’s bitter laugh was humorless. “Adam’s funeral made that damn clear.”

He recalled that miserable day. Mrs. Stewart weeping over her son’s coffin. Mr. Stewart looking bewildered. Adam’s roommate, Nick, avoiding Jake, like he blamed him for Adam’s death. Those damn display boards, cataloging every year of Adam’s too-short life and every stage of his too-short hockey career. Each one a heartrending reminder of what a good man Adam had been.

And how worthless Jake was.

“There, but for the grace of God and a seat belt,” he muttered.

“You’re not giving me that crap about how it should have been you?”

“Nah. Haven’t you heard? Only the good die young.”

“Don’t turn Adam into a saint. He was human, with faults like the rest of us. He nearly killed you in that accident.”

“If it’d been me—” Jake held up a hand to forestall Tru’s objection “—what kind of tributes would I have had? Nothing to make anyone proud of me.” His chest tightened.

Tru snorted with disgust. “Can the pity party. To paraphrase Saint Adam, most guys would give a left nut to have one night in your shoes. You’re always the same—all or nothing. When you set yourself a goal, it’s impossible to get you to veer from the path.” Tru calmed his tone. “Single-minded determination is great, but not for your personal life. There has to be a middle ground.”

Jake couldn’t imagine what that would be. “Like what?”

“Ditching the parties and other wild stuff is fine, but what’s wrong with dating a nice woman?”

“I told you, it’ll be a distraction.” Despite himself, however, a hint of doubt crept into Jake’s mind.

He’d always had women skating in and out of his life like players on a shift change. Women who’d relished his lifestyle as much as he had. He’d never dated one woman steadily, let alone someone ordinary, like Maggie. How would that even work?

Tru continued, “Having a good woman in your life and in your bed is a great way to balance out the stress. Hell, if I found someone like that I’d grab her in a heartbeat.”

Jake frowned at the hint of wistfulness in his friend’s voice, but their arrival at the rink ended the conversation. As they skated drills, he mulled over Tru’s suggestion.

Would dating the right woman be so bad?

In the past, Jake would have shuddered at the thought of making a commitment. He would have been horrified at the quiet life he planned to have now.

Yet neither prospect filled him with the dread they once would have. Maybe because he knew nothing could be worse than the alternative he’d escaped. He still had a choice about how to live his life. Adam sure as hell didn’t.

He pulled up sharply, his angled skates created a showering arc of ice. Maggie was nothing like the women in his past. For sure, she wouldn’t tempt him into his old ways.

Taking a pass from Tru, Jake fired a puck at the practice net, pumping his stick in the air in celebration when he scored. Maybe he should give dating Maggie a shot.

What did he have to lose?

* * *

“HOW ARE THINGS going with Jake?”

Though Tracy’s question was, on the surface, innocent enough, Maggie fought to control a blush. “Fine.”

She focused on her notes, hoping her sister wouldn’t notice, though it was hard to avoid Tracy’s curious gaze when sitting beside her bed.

There were still two days left of the promised week of bed rest, and allowing Tracy to work for a few hours each day was the only way to stop her from going stir-crazy. Twice-daily update sessions were the only way, short of handcuffing Tracy to the bed, to keep her from going downstairs.

This morning’s review had gone smoothly. Until now.

“No more problems after that little bust up?” Tracy put aside her laptop.

“Not really.” Maggie wasn’t about to admit how much her growing attraction to Jake troubled her. No matter how many times she talked sternly to herself, one sniff of his clean, masculine scent or the warm brush of his hand against the small of her back and her pulse danced. As often as she reminded herself of how wrong he was for her, temptation would try to override her caution. Tantalizing her to relax her guard against this bad boy.

What harm could it do?

Too bloody much. Didn’t she have the physical and emotional scars to prove it? No way could Maggie consider taking that dangerous path again.

Tracy cut into her thoughts. “I sense a but.”

“The house hunt is going in circles.” Her lips twisted. “I’m letting you down.”

“It’s not your fault the right place isn’t out there. Give it a little longer. You never know when the ideal house will be listed.”

“But training camp is imminent. The Ice Cats won’t be happy if I don’t deliver on time.”

“Actually, the Cats are very pleased with how you’re managing Jake’s requirements. They’ve even asked me to take on another player, a guy they’re bringing in from the Swedish Elite League. Thanks to your efforts to bring my admin stuff up to date, too, I was able to say yes.” Tracy leaned against the pillows with a satisfied smile. “I can almost taste that retainer.”

“That’s great. Are you sure you don’t want to take over with Jake?”

“I’ll have my hands full with this Swedish guy. Bringing in an overseas player is complicated because he hasn’t got a credit history. Signing him up for basics like electricity is a nightmare. Besides, like I said, you’re doing a good job.” Tracy’s gaze sharpened. “Is Jake giving you a hard time?”

“No. He’s lived up to his promise.” She paused, then admitted, “He’s not what I expected. He’s actually pretty good company.”

“Really?” Her sister arched an eyebrow.

“He talks about something other than sports, for a start. He’s not patronizing and he doesn’t mind if my opinion differs from his. I can say what I think and he’ll listen.”

“He’s hot, too.” Tracy grinned.

“He’s a client.” Maggie kept her voice steady. “All he’s interested in is finding a house, and all I’m interested in is ensuring he’s happy with our service, so you get that contract.”

“Once that’s done, you could still have a little fun with him.”

“I had my fun and suffered for it. Worse, so did Emily.”

Though she’d fiercely protected her daughter from Lee’s physical abuse, the emotional strain had taken a toll on Emily. Maggie’s throat tightened as she recalled how her bright, bubbly daughter had grown more withdrawn every time Lee had gone on a rampage. How she’d clung to Maggie, never wanting her to be out of sight. As if she’d known he wouldn’t hit her mother if she was there. At least until that final, awful night. “I won’t let her suffer again.”

“Sweetie, I know how much you both suffered. The last thing I want is for you ever to be in that situation again.” Tracy took hold of Maggie’s hand. “But you can’t let that stop you from ever going out with another guy.”

“I won’t.” Maggie squeezed her sister’s hand. “I’m just not ready yet. Even if I was, Jake’s totally the wrong guy for me.”

“There’s a wrong guy for having fun with?”

“There is for me. No more sports stars. No more rich and famous. It took a long time to learn the lesson, but I’ve learned it well.”

“I’ve never heard even a hint of anything bad about Jake. Women tend to gush about how wonderful he is.”

“Still, he’s not for me. He’s a hockey hard man who makes his living fighting and hitting.” She doubted anyone who displayed the cold-blooded aggression she’d seen in the video clips online—okay, so she’d done a Google search—could turn it off in other areas of his life. Lee certainly couldn’t.

No matter how much she liked Jake or how her body reacted to him, Maggie couldn’t afford to take a risk on him. Not just for her sake, but for Emily’s.

“When the time is right, I’ll start dating again. Assuming I can find the right kind of man.”

Tracy studied her carefully. “All right,” she said finally. “In the meantime, can you at least get rid of those dreary outfits?”

Maggie stiffened. “They might be plain, but they’re smart. You hardly want me in full WAG gear when I’m dealing with your clients.”

“You don’t need to dress like a dowager duchess, either.”

Though her sister was right, the comment still stung. “It’s not perfect, but it feels better than the way I used to dress.”

“You mean the way Lee insisted you dress—everything short, low cut and clinging, showing as much skin as possible and covered in bling.”

“You know, I loved it in the beginning. I had no clue how to dress, and he bought me stuff most girls dreamed of having.” Especially the naive eighteen-year-old she had been. He’d showered her with the latest fashions, the most expensive designers. The media lapped it up. “He made sure my picture was always in the press. It was all good...until I wanted to change. To be less flashy and outrageous. Less...”

Tracy sniffed derisively. “Tarty.”

Maggie half shrugged sadly. “I didn’t want to give up the designer clothes. Just find my own style, something more modest. He disagreed. And it was...easier...to give in.”

Tracy’s description of Maggie’s ex was coarse and pointed.

“Anyway, Lee doesn’t dictate my wardrobe now.”

“He may not handpick your outfits, but he’s still influencing the way you dress. You’ve gone to the opposite extreme. Other than your shoes, there’s not a high-end label in sight. The styles are fine, but the colors are boring.”

“Thanks a lot.”

“I’m not being mean,” her sister said gently. “I just think you could find something that’s more you. Don’t you miss wearing designer clothes?”

“Of course,” she admitted reluctantly.

“You sound like you’re confessing to a terrible crime. Who doesn’t like wearing nice things?” Tracy grinned. “With matching shoes, naturally.”

Maggie’s answering smile faded. “But it’s a slippery slope.”

It would be so easy to slide into that life again. First the clothes, then the glamorous parties and events. But the price to be paid was one she couldn’t afford.

“One step at a time. Let’s change some outfits before we start worrying about the red carpet and the paparazzi. I’ll help you keep your feet on the ground.”

It would be nice to spread her wings a little, fashionwise. Maybe simply wearing what she liked would be enough that the rest of that seductive lifestyle wouldn’t call to her. “I could give it a try.”

“Great. You can start by ditching anything beige, gray or brown. Try flowers, polka dots, stripes—anything but plain. What about those pretty summer dresses you brought with you?”

“I thought they’d be too casual, but if you’re sure they’re okay, I’ll wear them. They’ll definitely be more comfortable in this heat. Speaking of which—” Maggie checked her watch “—I’m meeting Jake at Mimi’s office in an hour for another trawl through the listings.”

“I bet he’ll find those dresses more attractive, too.”

“I won’t dress to impress Jake.” Maggie frowned. “Worrying about his reaction is no different to worrying about Lee’s.”

“All right. Point made.” Tracy held her hands up in mock surrender. “Then wear it to impress yourself. Now shoo and get changed. That’s an order.”

“Yes, boss.”

Maggie had to admit, half an hour later, the cheerful, pink flowers all over her cotton summer dress made her feel brighter, putting a spring in her step as she headed next door to say goodbye to Emily.

Though her daughter was more interested in the fort she was building with Amy, she stopped long enough to pass comment on what Maggie was wearing.

“You look really pretty, Mummy.” She hugged Maggie, then dashed off.

It warmed her heart to see Emily back to her normal, sunny self. Walking to her car, Maggie marveled at how easily her daughter had adjusted to her new life. Time for her to take a page from Emily’s book—get on with living her life, her way.

She just had to work out what her way was.

When she arrived at Mimi’s office, Jake was leaning against his SUV, talking on his cell. Maggie waved cheerfully.

Her smile faded as he scowled, then shook his head sharply. Her heart pinched, even as she told herself this wasn’t the past. Jake wouldn’t take his anger out on her. She ignored the tiny voice inside that reminded her of his behavior at the house with the fishpond.

“Damn it. I don’t have time for this.” Smack!

Maggie tried not to flinch as he slammed his palm against the side of his SUV. She tried to tamp down the flutters of panic in her stomach as she backed away slowly, inching toward the door of Mimi’s office building.

“I said no.” Smack!

She froze, her pulse skittering. Memories of that last night with Lee flashed through her mind. The past merged with the present.

Jake paced. Her eyes followed his angry movements, watching for the first sign that his ire had switched to her.

He turned and stepped toward her. Fury blazed in his ice-blue eyes. He said nothing, but his clenched fist was message enough.

CHAPTER FOUR

“I DON’T care how much money Adam owed you, I won’t let you cash in on his death.”

Jake’s grip on his cell phone tightened as he pounded his other fist on his thigh. Nick’s plan disgusted him.

“Come on, man,” Adam’s former roommate whined. “Fans pay crazy money on eBay for hockey memorabilia. His stuff is just lying around the apartment in boxes.”

“Give it all to charity, like the Stewarts wanted.”

“That was only a suggestion. Adam’s parents said I could do what I wanted with it.”

“I don’t think an online yard sale was what they had in mind.” Jake pinched the bridge of his nose, trying not to lose what little remained of his temper. “If you don’t want to take the boxes with you to L.A., have them sent to me.”

“So you can keep all the money for yourself.”

“No, damn it. I’ve told you, I don’t want any part of your sick scheme.”

“Your loss. I only offered you a chance to get in on the deal because I felt sorry for you.”

There was no reasoning with the guy. Though Jake hated to resort to threats, he knew it was the only language Nick would understand. “You touch anything in those boxes and I’ll tell the Hawks and the Kings what you’re doing.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Despite the bravado in Nick’s voice, there was an underlying thread of nervousness. “Besides, they wouldn’t believe you. Not when I tell them you’re having a breakdown because of your guilt over Adam’s death.”

The malicious jab stole Jake’s breath as effectively as if Nick had speared him in the gut with his stick. He rode the pain for a few moments, then used it to fuel his determination. No way he’d let Nick auction off Adam’s memory for a few lousy bucks.

“I’m warning you, if you try to sell even one item, I will personally see to it your career is over. You won’t even be able to ride a bus in the minors.”

Nick’s laugh had a desperate ring. “You don’t have that kind of influence.”

“You’d be surprised how quickly I could spread the word. Guys get mad when they think someone is taking advantage. Do you really want to be the target of their anger?”

Jake’s words hung menacingly in the air.

Nick swore. “Fine. You want his stuff so badly, you come and collect it. You’ve got one week. After that, everything goes in the nearest Dumpster.”

The last thing Jake wanted was to have to deal with Adam’s things. He didn’t need to be reminded that he was a pale shadow of the man his friend had been. He sure as hell didn’t need to be reminded of how he’d let Adam down.

It had been bad enough living in Chicago, surrounded by memories of coming up from the minors together, being drafted together, winning and losing together. Since he’d moved home, he’d finally begun to come to terms with what had happened. Not a day passed that he didn’t remember and regret, but he’d managed some semblance of peace.

Nick’s demand had shattered that fragile peace and ripped open still-raw wounds.

Jake had no choice. He owed Adam that much. “You make damn sure everything is still there—every last sock, button and scrap of paper. Screw with me and you’ll regret it.”

He hung up and jammed his cell into the front pocket of his jeans, then smacked the flat of his hand against his M-Class.

Damn Nick. Jake had never understood why Nick and Adam had been so close. Adam was a good, honest, hardworking guy. Nick took shortcuts, looked for the easy way. This was a new low.

Jake scrubbed his hand over his jaw and tried to calm his anger.

A flutter of pink reminded him Maggie was here. He forced himself to shove the problem to the back of his mind—he didn’t want to spoil the afternoon.

The thought of huddling around Mimi’s computer, the warmth of Maggie’s soft skin so close, was enough to make his pulse pound with frustration of a different kind.

Where would the buttons be today? His groin tightened as he recalled yesterday’s Chinese-style gray dress. The knotted silk buttons had started at the base of her throat and trailed their way across her left breast. Enough!

He turned toward Maggie.

What the hell...?

She stood by the door to the building, staring at him, her hand across her mouth. Her ashen skin made her brown eyes look even darker.

She looked scared.

Confused, he stepped toward her.

He halted abruptly when she pressed herself against the door.

“Maggie?”

Her lips trembled, even as her chin tilted defiantly.

What was her problem? Like a slow-mo replay, he reviewed the past few minutes—his anger, his threats, his actions—then swore silently, as he realized Maggie was scared.

Of him.

She probably believed that clichéd crap about hockey players being violent because they played a physical game. Sure, he’d fought off the ice in the past, but only because some knucklehead had thrown a punch to prove how tough he was. Jake hadn’t fought in anger since he was a kid. And he’d never, ever, hit a woman.

Maggie wouldn’t know that. He had to put her at ease. Slowly, he raised his hands, palm out, to show he meant no harm.

“Are you okay?” He kept his voice calm and low.

She stilled, nodding sharply. Her dark brown eyes never left him.