Chapter 24
DEVON
“Come on, it’ll be fun.”
Jack eyed me. “Your definition of fun and mine appear to be very different.”
“You didn’t invite me to go to the Dominican Republic with you—you invited me to Tofino. In February. Were you seriously thinking we were just going to hunker down by the fire and do kinky stuff?”
“Well…” He eyed the beach with the crashing waves beyond it.
“Jack?”
“Mmm?”
“We’re not actually going surfing. That’s for the people who need their heads examined.”
“Wetsuits?”
“Yes, they wear wetsuits. Since we’re not actually getting into the ocean, we don’t.”
He didn’t appear convinced.
“Jack?”
“Mmm?”
“How have you survived this many years doing hockey—since you were what, five?”
“Something like that.
“Okay, since you were five…and you don’t like the cold. Are you—” I eyed him. “—a wimp?”
“Hey.” He put his hands on his hips. “I’m just saying we have a lovely fire going. We’re nice and toasty warm, we’ve got a television we can watch. Maybe play a video game. Definitely get kinky. And—”
I tossed him his coat. His freaking wool coat. “It’s above freezing.”
“By six degrees.”
“Really?” I checked my phone. “It’s two degrees. Not eight.”
“No. It’s thirty-eight. You Canadians.”
I arched an eyebrow. “You really want to go there? Our zero is the freezing point. Our one hundred is the boiling point. We use factors of ten. How does anything else possibly make sense?”
“Well, you add thirty-two—”
I tossed his scarf at his head. “Right, but then at some point your thermometer goes lower than ours at the same temperature—”
“Minus forty degrees.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s way too cold. That’s like…prairies in the winter. The Yukon, way too often. Alaska in the summer.”
“I’ll have you know that Alaska’s median temperature in the summer…oof.”
I’d tossed his hat at his head. “I’m not going to ask how you know that. Super cool, mind you, but totally not helpful. Although the lowest temperature ever recorded in Canada—”
He threw his hat back at me. “I can walk without this.”
“Brisk winds off the Pacific.”
He pursed his lips. “I like the wind in my hair.”
“Yes, the windswept look is attractive. Jack, I have longer hair than you.”
“Are you wearing a hat?”
Slowly, I shook my head. “Good Canadian boy who loves the winter.”
He put on his coat. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
“Oh, I can.” I donned my ski jacket. “I have a parka—I didn’t bring it because it’s not going to be below zero. Although it usually has to be much colder—”
“I’m getting cold just standing here talking about the cold.” He wrapped his scarf around his neck. “The sooner we go, the sooner we can come back.”
“You’re being very bossy this morning. Is it that paddling I gave you that has made you saucy, not compliant?”
His face fell with the edges of his mouth turning down. “Sorry, Sir—”
I moved swiftly, yanked him into my arms, and placed a firm kiss against his lips. “I like smart-mouthed Jack—just gives me an excuse to whip you this afternoon.”
“More welts?” He offered a shy smile.
I bopped his nose. “Of course. Now, let’s go.”
And go we did.
We also donned gloves, so holding hands was impractical. I wouldn’t have worried about being seen, though. We skirted the onlookers and headed away from the small gathered crowd.
And yeah, there were people surfing. Not just men, but women as well. Like Jack, I wasn’t convinced a wetsuit would keep them warm. Unlike Jack, I wasn’t going to express my doubts—especially since I’d just gone through the fun of riling him up.
His cheeks reddened in the blustery wind, and he really did look adorable.
The words were on the tip of my tongue.
I don’t want to lose you.
Can we stay here forever?
Why can’t we be together?
And, the biggest one of all.
I think I’m falling in love with you.
No. Not think. I am in love with you.
That should’ve scared the ever-loving shit out of me.
But it didn’t. It sat heavy in both my heart and my gut.
I loved this man. As improbable as this was.
Hell, I’d started falling that first night in the hotel—before I’d known who he was.
The trust he’d placed in me—a total stranger—when he’d dropped to his knees.
That look of longing when I’d left that night after our playing and fucking.
All the glances ever since. To think we’d held off going to bed again for weeks and weeks.
Even now, I couldn’t believe we’d gone to bed so often in the past couple of days.
We weren’t fucking. Well, we were…but we weren’t. At least not for me. I was making love to him. Even when I was drilling him into the mattress—I did it with love and affection. Things I couldn’t show him.
He shivered.
“You want to go back?”
He shrugged. “It’s kind of fun watching these, uh…”
I cocked my head.
“I’m not supposed to say crazy or insane or even stupid.”
“That’s true. And I’m proud of you for that. Plenty of guys on the ice would do just that.”
“I have to set a good example. Mental illness is real.” He rubbed his forehead. “A guy I played with—” He sniffed.
I wasn’t convinced that was because of the cold.
“Like, he’s okay now. But his kid died. Neuroblastoma. My friend went to a really dark place. His wife—who was also grieving—had to stage, like, an intervention. Three of us went down there and talked him into getting help. He just kept saying over and over that he’d rather it had been him.”
“Shit.”
“Right? They had two other kids. He had a wife who adored him. Hell, he even had two aging parents who needed him. But he just circled around the idea that his kid should’ve had a chance to live.”
I cleared my throat. “Did you go through a rough time? When your marriage ended? Or when your parents died?”
“Nah. Well, not really. Not like wanting to die. Just a real disappointment. That I’d picked the wrong guy to marry.
That I’d made a series of decisions that led me to where I was.
I had won the Cup—and my home life turned out to be a disaster.
I couldn’t tell anyone. So much was riding on me being perfect. ”
I yanked him into my arms.
He stiffened.
“We’re just two spots on the horizon hugging. Likely to share body heat.”
The laugh was a little watery.
“You lost something that meant everything to you. And I wonder if you’ve grieved it. Or if you just moved on and took the next step in your career.”
“A career that means everything.”
His words were warm against my cheek.
Well, just in case things weren’t abundantly clear—they are now.
We couldn’t have had something.
My mind was made up even as my heart rebelled. As much my chest grew tight.
A particularly strong gust of wind blew in, and someone tumbled off their board. They went under for a moment before resurfacing and swimming over to their board. They grabbed it and headed to shore.
“Okay, even the crazy person is calling it a day.” I squeezed Jack once more. “Let’s go back.”
We did. Hustling along the way to generate some warmth. When we hit the house, though, Jack gazed at his watch as we stripped out of our layers.
“It’s too early for lunch. Game’s not until tonight.” Earlier here, because we were on the West Coast and the thing was in the central time zone. But still late enough that we’d be contemplating dinner. Pizza, we’d agreed. With a beer. Or maybe two.
I undid my laces and toed off my boots. “Bed.”
“Oh yes, please.” His stunning brown eyes lit up with pleasure.
“To rest. To cuddle.” I held his gaze. “We’ve done a lot of playing the past couple of days.
Sometimes it’s good to take a break.” Because I want to hold you.
Because I need you. Because we have so little time together and I want to take advantage of every moment.
I doubted we’d cuddle tonight during the game.
No, I could see us taking sides against each other.
If only because we were so damn competitive.
“Yeah. Nap.” He grasped the hem of his sweater. “But skin to skin, right? And I’m the big spoon?”
I swatted his ass. “Yes and no. Go and turn on the fireplace in the bedroom. I have to piss and then I’ll join you.” Because I needed just another moment to gather my thoughts.
He grinned. “Yes, Sir.”
The urge to correct him was on the tip of my tongue. I didn’t want to be his Sir right now. One thing to command him to walk on the beach with me—which I was convinced he’d enjoyed. He’d been getting up in his head again. He needed the break.
But also, because after all the play, I wanted, for just a moment, to hold the real Jack. The one I’d come to care for so deeply.
Yeah. The Jack you might just love.
That was the thought that carried me into bed, and that kept me from resting as he slept peacefully in my arms.