Chapter 18
Chapter
Vivian
I squirmed in Lennon’s huge truck’s passenger seat, wondering how I’d been so easily manipulated. Well, I’d wanted to come with him, wanted to see if we still had that connection. Belladonna made herself comfortable in her large, cushy dog seat that took up the entire backseat of the truck. I loved that Lennon spoiled his dog.
“Want to run first or go by my place?” he asked.
“Run, please.” I was nervous and needed something else to focus on.
Lennon drove to Memorial Park, a large expanse of trails and trees interspersed with thick slabs of grass. “I can’t believe we’re so close to downtown,” I said as we got out. “I can barely hear the traffic noise.”
Lennon smiled. “It’s not Central Park, but it’s pretty nice. Ready?”
“Yep.”
Belladonna trotted beside us, and I noted that Lennon shortened his stride to match mine. We made an easy loop that was probably a couple of miles, and by the time we’d finished, I was sweaty and probably red-faced. I lifted the hair off the back of my neck and fanned my cheeks.
We walked back to his truck, where Lennon offered me a bottle of water. He poured some into a bowl for the dog before he drank his own. I’d known from the beginning that he was a kind man, but watching him care for his dog, his T-shirt plastered to his chest and the thick slabs of muscle on his abdomen, caused a thrum of desire.
I finished my water, both pleased to know the connection was still there and afraid to explore it. I inhaled. The only way I could manage these feelings was to work through them, so I might as well start. “Thanks for the run,” I said. “I needed that.”
He pulled a couple of hand towels from his gym bag and offered me one. We both wiped away perspiration.
“Sure. I like to run. Quiets my head. And with my mom…I think I’m going to be in the best shape of my life.”
I laid my hand on his forearm. “I’m sorry you and your family have to go through this, Lennon.”
He nodded. “I know you’ve been there.” He cleared his throat and worry settled in his eyes. “How are things looking? I mean, any update on her prognosis?”
“It’s actually really good,” I said. “She said I could talk to you about this—otherwise, I couldn’t.”
“I get that.”
“So…yeah, the biopsy was positive. The mass will be removed this week, but it’s small and localized. The first round of chemotherapy starts next week, and we won’t know how she reacts to that until we get there. But she’s healthy, and we have ways to mitigate the symptoms.”
“Good. That’s all good.”
I hesitated. “She doesn’t need a private nurse. It’s a large expense and?—”
He squeezed my fingers. “Please don’t worry about the money. I can afford it, if she’ll let me pay.”
I laughed. “She won’t.”
“She won’t,” he agreed. “She wants you. And I want you there with her. As long as you’re okay with your arrangement, we’re all happier for it.”
I blew out the breath I’d been holding since the plane ride here. “Okay.”
“I’m really glad you’re here, Vivi.”
I smiled at him. “Me, too.”
“Want to swing by my place now?” he asked. “I’d love to show it to you.”
“Let’s go.”
He helped me back into the huge pickup, and I buckled in while he started the engine.
“So…you don’t live far?” I asked.
“Not too far. I wanted to be close enough in case my mom needed me—when I’m in town, that is.”
“How much do you travel?” We hadn’t discussed his season in great detail when we met. Now, I had a better sense of his travel time, which he confirmed for me.
“About half the season. Sometimes that’s lumped together, and we can be out of town playing an away series for eight to ten days, but that’s rare.”
I frowned as I studied his profile. He glanced at me, and I liked how the sunlight glinted off his brown eyes.
“That’s a long time. Isn’t it hard on families?”
“Yeah, it is. I’d say the travel is the hardest part of being a professional athlete. Partners have to handle whatever comes out while we’re playing. It takes a real toll on relationships. But Coach and Gunnar, they’ve worked to build a network so the families have support. Whatever it is—emergency care, new baby, problems with teens—the Wildcatters organization has a liaison on call that partners can reach for help.”
“That’s really smart. And so thoughtful,” I said.
“It’s also self-serving.” Lennon’s mouth kicked up in a smile. “If a player’s worried about what’s going on at home, the distraction impacts performance.”
“Ah.” I settled back into the seat.
After another moment, he pulled into a parking garage. Once we exited the vehicle, Belladonna trotting at Lennon’s side, he led me to the elevator and upstairs to his place. I felt his sideways glances that lingered on my legs and bare arms, and I shifted. While my mind kept telling me to be wary of him, of his lifestyle, my heart pushed me toward him. With a mental sigh, I gave in.
I pivoted so my chest pressed against his and rose up on my tiptoes. Before I could blink, I’d touched my lips to his. Lennon made a gruff sound as his arms encircled my waist, his hand splaying wide between my shoulder blades. I shivered as his fingers touched my skin. He angled his head to deepen the kiss, and I opened my mouth, encouraging his tongue.
I’d missed this—missed him. Each inhale brought more of his scent into my lungs, creating a heady cocktail that made me shove my chest more fully against his hard pecs. He stroked into my mouth, tasting, gauging, learning me and my preferences all over again. Yet it was also like coming home, because he knew me, knew that I went weak in the knees when his tongue rubbed the corner of my bottom lip. He knew I liked to grip the hair at the back of his head. And he knew I couldn’t resist when he cupped my jaw, holding me in place as he plundered my mouth.
I smoothed my tongue against his as I rubbed my hips over his, and Lennon groaned low, almost painfully. I reveled as desire bloomed from my pores, cascading across my skin and pooling in my low belly. The elevator dinged, and Lennon cursed against my lips.
“Oh! Well…I hope you plan to step out, young man, because I have places to be,” came a woman’s voice as the doors slid open.
We pulled apart and turned. An older woman with snowy white bob and sparkling brown eyes stared at us. Belladonna chuffed a greeting.
“Hello, Mrs. Rodriguez.”
“Lennon.” She inclined her head. “And this is Vivian?”
“It is,” Lennon said.
My world was off-kilter—as much from that stunning kiss as the fact that this older lady, a neighbor, knew my name.
“About time you brought her here. I’ve been waiting to meet you, Vivian. I’m also a Vivian. That’s how I learned about you.” She winked.
The elevator doors started to close, and she put out her hand even as Lennon put his on the other set of doors. “Why don’t you two finish your business in your condo? I really do need to get to my appointment.” She wrinkled her nose.
Lennon appeared flustered, which on the giant of a man, was utterly adorable. “Yes, we’re getting off. Have a good evening, Mrs. Rodriguez.”
“I will now that I see you brought your lady-love home.” Her smile grew, and her eyes sparkled. “Let’s talk soon, Vivian.”
“Y-yes, sure. That would be nice,” I stammered. My cheeks were so hot I thought my skin might sizzle.
Lennon pulled me out of the car and down the hall. We pretended not to hear Mrs. Rodriguez’s chuckle.
“That was mortifying,” I muttered.
“Sorry. I, er, lost control.”
He opened the door and ushered me into his place. The main room was large and open between the living area, kitchen, and dining room.
Lennon seemed to like natural fabrics and mid-tone woods; the cabinets were a warm maple and the countertops a soft beige. In the kitchen, there were large glass jars with baking basics on a wooden shelf next to a high-powered mixer. Seemed the man also loved to bake. In the living room he had a large sectional in a darker brown leather that formed a U-shape in front of a brick fireplace. The floors were a grayish slate that tied the spaces together.
I pursed my lips, considering his comment as well as his home. I liked this place, very much. “No, Lennon. You haven’t fully lost control yet.”
“You remembered—that I need to be in control.” He glanced over as he shut the door. The heat flaring in his eyes matched by the lust still simmering in my gut.
“I know that you prefer to be in charge ,” I corrected. “But you will also enjoy ceding it. Because I’m going to make you.” I sashayed into his place behind the dog, unsurprised that Lennon still stood at the door, rigid, his breathing much too fast.
“Let me put away her leash and make her dinner.” He stalked off. I couldn’t help but smile at the tension radiating off of him. Then he abruptly turned and came back. “I’m going to kiss you some more.” He narrowed his eyes. “And then probably some more after that.”
I smirked. “Let’s see what you got, big guy.”
The next night, I gaped as I sat in the plush leather chair with a Wildcatters logo embossed into the soft material. Lola had parked me at the front of the sky-high box in Wildcatters Arena while she got us drinks and snacks. I was too overwhelmed to do more than take in my surroundings. Everything was sumptuous and so fancy, I didn’t want to touch it. The granite countertops gleamed, the glasses were crystal, and the beverages all had names I’d never heard before.
Two discreet waitstaff in starched white button downs and black pants stood at the buffet, which had to hold twenty different chafing dishes. Lola returned with my glass of wine, and I took a long sip, needing to quench my thirst—and fortify my nerve.
“My season-ticket seats are nothing like this. They’re near the team benches.” She pointed. “I like it down there because the crowd energy is awesome. And I don’t worry I’ll break something.”
I nodded. “I’m definitely freaking out about that now.”
“Don’t.” She took a sip of her iced green tea—a very good choice considering her current health. “Gunnar’s super laid back. He’s not going to grind you up and spit you out for dropping a plate.”
“No, I’m not, and I appreciate the kind words, Lola,” came a voice from behind us.
I turned to find a tall, fit man in his late forties with the palest eyes—like glaciers. He wore a dark suit with a Wildcatters tie, a seemingly playful nod for such a hard-faced man.
Lola set her drink in the cupholder on her chair and hugged Gunnar. I set my drink down so I didn’t drop it. That was wise because when the Wildcatters owner turned his flinty gaze toward me, I quaked.
“I hear you’re taking care of Lola as she goes through her treatment.”
“I am.” I offered him my hand. “Vivian Lee.”
His handshake was as firm and no-nonsense as I’d expected it to be. “You’re also the one Cruz has been pining for the past few months.” Gunnar leaned in closer, his voice low and soft enough to be just for my ears. “He needs you more than you know.”
I sucked in my breath. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I hope you will. And I hope you’re as kind as he made you out to be. Lennon’s one of a few truly special men. I’d like to keep him around for many more years so he can mentor and mold the young ones who are all about bravado and pissing contests.” Gunnar scowled. “It’s a struggle to find integrity these days.”
“I know,” I said. “Some of the surgeons I’ve worked with do the job for money and prestige, not to save lives.”
Gunnar looked out over the arena. “I believe in honor and integrity, Vivian. I also believe like finds like.” Those glacial eyes met mine again. This man was hard, but I could see why Lola liked him. He was fair, decent, but he’d be ruthless to get what he wanted.
“I’ll remember that,” I said.
He smiled as he stepped back. “I know.”
When he sauntered off to talk to other people in the suite, I stifled a gasp. “Is that…?”
“It is,” Lola said. “I’ve never been brave enough to go up and say hello.”
“And that’s…” My voice cracked. I shook my head. “I guess I should have realized a hockey team owner is really rich and he would know other really rich, famous people.”
“It’s an alternate world,” Lola said. She perked up with a smile. “The ladies are here.”
I turned just in time to be enveloped in Hana’s hug. “I’m so, so mad you didn’t come to my wedding, but I understand. When we were in San Francisco, I hadn’t realized your Lennon was our Cruz.”
I cringed. Because I’d made a point not to tell her.
“Those hockey boys refuse to use most of their first names.” Lola smiled at a petite blonde with a high ponytail and paint-spattered jeans and Converse. She reminded me of an approachable cheerleader. “Except Maxim and Cormac,” Lola continued. “What did they do to get the men to call them by their first names?”
The woman shrugged. “No clue about Cormac. You’d have to ask him or Keelie. And I probably don’t wanna know.” Her accent was thick and sweet, like molasses. “Hi, I’m Ida Jane Dolov,” she said, offering me her hand. “I’m married to Maxim. He’s a D-man like Cruz. They’ve been on the same line for years now. I came up with Hana to be the official welcoming committee tonight because Gunnar only had two more seats, but everyone wants to meet you. We’ll have y’all over for a barbecue soon as the boys get back from their road trip next week.”
“I’m going to have Vivian and Lola over for tea on Sunday,” Hana said. “If that works, Lola.”
She nodded. “I think so.” She looked to me.
I hesitated, but then I smiled. “That would be fabulous.” No reason to assume the treatments would cause her distress. For many, the outlook and attitude were as important as the medication, it seemed. I wouldn’t do anything to reduce Lola’s chances for recovery. Plus, having a strong support network made the entire process easier on the patient.
Lola clapped her hands. “I’ll bring sopapillas.”
“Oh, then I’m gonna join y’all,” Ida Jane said, rubbing her hands together. She pouted. “Shoot. Can’t. I got two new kids coming in for treatment Monday morning, and I need to go over their information and set up my office.”
Ida Jane went on to explain her job as an art therapist, and Lola got us plates of food. We snacked and ate until the game started.
Ida Jane wiped her fingers on a napkin, leaned forward and cupped her hands before she shouted, “Bust some butts, baby!”
We all giggled, but it only took three plays where I struggled to keep an eye on the puck—it moved so much faster on the ice in real time somehow—before Maxim moved in and started pummeling a guy who’d whacked Naese with his hockey stick.
“That’s called high-sticking,” Hana said from my side.
I knew that, but I nodded because I was too intent on watching the action to speak.
“And it’s a penalty, but the boys don’t like it, so they pound the offender,” Lola added from my other side.
I nodded again. “I know. I watched this whole season. This is way more intense than watching on television.”
“It is,” Lola agreed. “But I love it because my boy loves it.”
“Takes some getting used to,” Ida Jane said. “I used to peek through my hands during my first season.”
That I could understand. I clasped my hands, and my knees bounced. My heart slid up into my throat when Lennon accepted the puck with his stick and moved with grace toward the opposing team’s net. He flicked his stick, sending the puck forward, right before the opposing players flew around him.
My nerves grew tauter in the last period as Cruz body slammed a player into the boards and the puck slipped out. Hana gripped my arm as she raised her other hand. “Come on, Pax. You got this. You got this… Nice pass.”
We all rose to our feet and cheered when Luka Stol slid the puck in under the goalie’s pads.
Ida Jane sat back and fanned her face. “This game is not for the faint of heart.”
“It’s raw,” Hana said. She shot me a side-eye and a smirk. “That’s why I love it.”
I laughed, and some of the tension left my shoulders. “I think I need another glass of wine.”
“You got it,” Ida Jane said. She brought back fresh drinks for us all, and we sipped and snacked, keeping an eye on the game.”
“So…” Hana said. “When are you and Lennon going on a date?”
I hesitated.
“Oh, yes! Do tell.”
“We went for a run with Belladonna.”
“And after that, they had a passionate embrace in the elevator,” Lola said, waggling her eyebrows.
I gasped. “How…”
Lola smiled. “Vivian Rodriguez is a friend of mine.”
“I think everyone is a friend of yours,” I said.
Lola smiled. “Close. There are a few people in the city I haven’t met.”
“Was it a good kiss?” Hana asked quietly. She leaned her head against my shoulder. This affectionate version of my friend was something new, something I needed to get used to, but something I definitely liked.
I stared down at Lennon on the ice as he skated toward the puck. I couldn’t see his expression, but I knew it was one of intense concentration—like the way he focused on me. We’d made out for a good hour before the intensity had gotten to us. After showing me around his place, we’d gone back to his mother’s, where he’d left me after a chaste kiss on the cheek.
“It was intense.” I inhaled. “ So intense. I can’t wait to do it again.”
“How about tonight and then again tomorrow?” Lola said.
“Dang, Lola. You got this wing-woman thing down,” Ida Jane said.
“Only because I like Vivian.” Lola sniffed.
We all laughed. Then, two minutes later, we cheered because Cormac Bouchard had scored another goal.
After the game, I hugged Lola goodbye. She didn’t want to meet up with the team for the celebration, and I could see exhaustion in her features. She’d promised she was okay to drive, and I trusted her to know her limits.
I waited with Ida Jane and Hana in the suite until the crowd thinned. Then I followed as the two women wended their way through the arena, keeping a light level of chatter as we headed down to the locker room. The security guard at the door smiled at Ida Jane.
“Thanks for the apple butter,” he told her. “My wife’s been putting it on everything. Her current favorite is ice cream.”
“Sounds yummy,” Ida Jane said. “And I was glad to do it, Ross. How’s that baby of yours?”
Ross puffed up as a smile beamed across his face. “Cute as a button and smarter than me already.”
Ida Jane chuckled. “Just as it should be.”
Ross waved us through with a polite nod to Hana and me. My nerves swirled through my belly as I sidled into the locker room.
“I was so nervous the first few times I came down here,” Hana said. “This place is nothing like when Pax played in college.”
I took in the well-appointed space with the cushioned benches and a long bar that held high-end blenders and one of those restaurant-grade glass-front refrigerators with sports drinks, fruits, nuts, and a variety of other healthy snacks.
A huge, dark-haired man with cool eyes strode toward us. I tensed as he snagged Ida Jane by the waist, hauling her up against his chest with ease before he kissed her. “Missed you, Fists.”
I goggled at the brute being so gentle with Ida Jane. She smacked a second kiss to his lips and told him good game.
“They’re good together. Or rather, she’s good for him,” Lennon said from behind me. I startled but managed to bite back my yelp. I turned and tipped my head back so I could meet his gaze.
“Good game,” I said. That felt…inadequate. I blinked, trying to breathe through the overwhelm settling over me.
“It was.” Lennon’s expression softened. “I’m glad you’re here. I know this can be…a lot.”
“Oh, I’m totally freaking out.”
Lennon stilled, intent on me. “In a good way?”
I turned a little to take in the scene before me. Guys were laughing and chatting. Some, like Maxim and now Paxton, had their arms around their wives. They were all so…normal.
I faced Lennon again. “Yes. But I think it’ll take me a while to get used to this.”
His lips kicked up enough that they got lost in his beard. My breath caught. He was just so male . He inched a bit closer so that the tips of his dress shoes—I’d noted they were wingtips…swoon!—brushed my gray suede booties. My breath caught as he raised his hand and brushed my hair back from my cheek and off my shoulder. His thumb settled on the side of my neck, over my raging pulse.
“I like that you implied you’d be around for a while, Vivi. I want that. I want you around a long, long time.” His voice was tender. This was the man I’d spent the weekend with. I tipped my head back a little more, wishing he’d kiss me.
His lashes fluttered, and he gazed at my lips before returning his attention to my eyes. His thumb rubbed up and down my neck, causing a cascade of sensation along my skin, shooting outward to my fingertips, breasts, and belly.
“In fact, if I could have had my way then, just like now, I’d beg you to stay with me.”
Dimly, I heard Ida Jane speaking. Maxim rumbled a reply. But they almost didn’t exist in the bubble Lennon had created around us.
“You don’t have to beg.” I licked my lips. “I want to be here.”
He moaned softly. “I want to take this at your pace, Vivi. You’re in charge. I told you that. But damn…I want you in my life and bed every night. I want to hold you. Kiss you like I did yesterday.”
My breath broke over my moistened lips. His look of longing made me bolder, and I rose on my tiptoes, bracing my hand on his shoulder as I whispered in his ear, “What about fucking me?”
He kissed me fiercely, but then shook his head. “No. Not tonight.”
“What? Why?” My voice had a decided whine that was not attractive—or dignified—but I wanted Lennon terribly. I had for months, and he was denying me my biggest treat.
“Because, my beautiful Vivian, I want to take you out and show you off on my arm and know every man and many women wish they were me. I want to make you giggle and scrunch your nose. I want to watch you sip wine and lick your lips as you tilt your head back and moan, your eyes closed and your expression blissed out, as you taste some perfect little bite. “
My eyes widened as heat rushed through me.
“Then, after we’re replete from a delicious meal and sparkling conversation, I want to bring you back to my bed, spread you out, and make you scream and come and scream and come.”
“Oh. My.”
He said all that like it was a given. No wonder he liked being in charge. I would have fanned my face if the muscles had worked in my arm. But all of them seemed to have gone lax as Lennon described his fantasy date, and who was I, really, to get between the man and his desires?
He glanced around. “Ready to go?”
“Where?” I asked.
“Well, the team’s headed to a restaurant we like—where we normally go after a game. But we don’t have to do that, if you don’t want to.”
I glanced around. Hana waved as she and Paxton headed out the door. “I’d like to go. And have you show me off.”
He placed a hand at my lower back and walked me out of the arena toward his huge truck. I glanced around again, trying to take it all in. “This is more than I could have imagined. So much more than I could have ever expected to want.”
He placed his free palm against the truck and snuggled me against his frame. He leaned down and nipped my earlobe. “What do you want, Vivi?”
“That. What you said earlier. All of it. And more.”
His dark eyebrow shot up. “What more?”
“You. Talking, laughing, holding hands, kissing my temple, cheek, lips. Making sure everyone knows were together.” I bit my lip. It was swollen and sensitive. I dropped my eyes and peeked at him through my lashes. I’d never been an ingenue, but I felt like one now. “You inside me. Moving over me, in me, surrounding me.”
He inched even closer, so our chests brushed. “Fuck, Vivi. Fuck. That sounds amazing.”
“I want you, Lennon. Now, tomorrow, in ten minutes, next week, next month, seven years from now. But don’t you dare make me wait that long.”
“I won’t. Gah. I’m not sure I can make it through tonight after those sexy words came out of your mouth.” He shifted, and I felt the large, unmistakable bulge against my thigh, which spasmed with the need for more friction.
My panties were sopping—embarrassingly so.
“But you deserve for me to do this right. Perfect. Because that’s what you are to me, for me, my perfect Vivi.”
“I’m not perfect, Lennon. Don’t you dare put me on a pedestal. Then you’ll just knock me off it and end up hating me or resenting me or?—”
“Perfect for me, Vivi. You’re the yin to my yang, my missing piece. And you matter. So let me show you how much. We’re building the foundation for forever. A few days, even a few weeks won’t matter?—”
“I can’t wait weeks,” I muttered.
Lennon laughed and kissed the tip of my nose. “Noted.” He pressed his erection into my belly. “I don’t want to, either. But I have to say… This anticipation is pretty fucking delicious.”