27. Weston
WESTON
I ’ll admit it—the hockey clinic was actually kind of fun. Much as I bitched about it, I enjoyed watching the kids faces light up when I taught them a new stick skill or they connected with the puck.
Hell, maybe one day I’ll be coaching my own kids.
My mind instantly flashes to Harbor. I have to give her credit.
The whole Hockey with Heart thing is her vision—and it seems to be working.
Everyone in town’s excited about the upcoming season and they love the hammerhead shark mascots, Riptide and Lil Rip.
She managed to nail the right blend of intimidating and family-friendly—not the easiest task in the world.
The woman’s damn good at her job.
She’s good at a lot of things.
Scrubbing a hand over my face, I grab my phone from the nightstand.
Weston: You up ?
I blink at the bright screen in the dark. It’s after 10 PM and today was a long day for her. She’s probably already asleep.
Hurricane: Yes
Heart hammering, I text back.
Weston: Can I see you?
Hurricane: Like Facetime?
Weston: I was thinking more like beach walk
Probably a violation of rule #1, but right now I don’t care. I want to be with her.
Hurricane: You think anyone will spot us?
Weston: I’m not too worried about the sea turtles turning us in. It’s 10 PM. Beach will be empty
Hurricane: I’m in
Weston: I’ll meet you at the dunes behind the Inn
Hopping out of bed, I pull on a pair of running shorts and a T-shirt.
Then I tiptoe down the stairs, carefully avoiding the living room where Bennett’s shouting obscenities at Call of Duty.
Headphones on, he’s fully immersed in battle.
I’m sure he doesn’t notice me sneak out, and Callum’s been in his room since eight.
I duck out through the side door of the garage.
Not wanting to risk being spotted in the Porsche, I jog down the pathway to the beach and walk along the shoreline toward the hotel.
The moon’s full, silver slashes of light slanting across the white sand beach.
I inhale the salty air, the humidity wrapping around me.
I’m closing in on the Driftwood Inn, the soft, golden glow of the hotel spilling into the night. Just beyond the dunes, I lean on the railing and wait for Harbor, the waves crashing on the shore. The sound’s rhythmic, peaceful, and I’m instantly more relaxed.
I could get used to this.
Back in Manhattan, I rarely left my apartment at night. Too loud, too crowded. Paparazzi hung out on every corner, waiting to catch you doing something, anything. Even a trip to the bodega for a protein shake was an opportunity to get snapped.
I don’t miss that at all. For the most part, the locals are friendly and welcoming. Excited we’re in town, but they leave us alone and respect our privacy.
Driftwood Cove could actually work out, assuming we have a good season. Only time will tell there.
I’m surprised I haven’t hated it more.
Might have something to do with the woman on the boardwalk.
Harbor’s walking toward me, her hair loose and blowing behind her in the gentle breeze. The dimmed lobby lights of the Inn illuminate her curves, her bright smile when she spots me at the dunes.
I’m never getting over this girl.
This is more—so much more—than sex or lust. We have a connection. The kind that’s so powerful, so special it takes your breath away.
The kind worth fighting for .
“Hey, handsome.” Her voice is soft, floating on the wind to me.
“Hey.”
Grabbing her hand, I pull her behind the grassy dunes and press my mouth to hers. Soft, warm, receptive. She tastes like forever. I wrap my arms around her, resting my hands on her perfect peach of an ass.
“I missed you,” I murmur and she giggles, the sound sweet and tinkly.
“Me too. I’m glad you called. I couldn’t sleep.”
I tip back, gazing down at her. “Why?”
“Too keyed up from today. Sometimes when an event’s really big or stressful, it takes me a minute to decompress, you know?”
I nod. “Yeah. Same thing happens to me after a game. I have a whole post-game meditation ritual. I can share it with you if you want.”
“Really? That’d be great.” She beams up at me like I’m the brightest, most amazing man in the world and my chest cracks open.
I’m falling in love with this woman.
Voices carry across the sand from the Inn patio and Harbor stills in my arms, a flash of worry dancing across her face.
“Let’s walk.” Touching only her pinky finger, I lead her away from the potential prying eyes at the hotel. We walk down the beach, away from the main hotel and condo area, toward the private residences. Most porch lights are off, the inhabitants asleep.
“So…” I glance over at her, noticing her face is already more relaxed. “I hesitate to tell you this…but I had fun at the clinic today.”
“Really? ”
“Yep. I liked working with the kids. Seeing the joy on their faces when they hit the puck was really cool.”
“You’re a natural.”
I shrug. “I don’t know about all that.”
“No, you are. All of you guys were great, but I heard a lot of moms bring up your name after the clinic. You better be careful or you’re going to get recruited as a coach during the off-season.”
“I wouldn’t mind if I have the time.”
“You were great with the kids. Not to get too personal, but do you want to have children of your own?”
Direct violation of rule #3.
But I don’t bring it up.
“I think so. Once hockey settles down a little bit. I want to be able to spend time with my kids, you know? My dad wasn’t around much when we were growing up—first, he was playing hockey, then he was busy impressing Prissy.”
Harbor grabs my hand, lacing her fingers with mine and squeezing. “That must have been hard.”
“It wasn’t optimal. I swore to myself I wouldn’t be like that with my own kids. So I’ve put off relationships and stuff for hockey.”
Until now.
I leave the words unsaid, pulling Harbor down to the shoreline. The waves lap at our feet and I trace her soft, smooth cheek.
“You’re so damn beautiful, Hurricane. You’re turning me inside out, making me think about things I never thought could be mine.”
“Weston…” She rests her face in my palm and I want to stay like this, out on the beach with Harbor, forever.
No team, no rules, no expectations.
Just the two of us .
Being real and raw.
“Say you feel the same way. Please.” I work to keep the pleading tone out of my voice, not wanting to come off desperate.
Even though I totally fucking am.
I need her to be mine.
“You know I do. I’ve never felt this way about anyone…” She inhales a shaky breath, blinking, the moonlight shimmering in her eyes. “It scares me.”
Instead of delivering some hollow speech, I cup her face in my hands and kiss her. Soft and deep, making her believe in me.
In us.
After a long minute, I whisper, “Don’t be scared, Harbor. I wish I could tell you everything will work out. But I can’t. All I can promise is I won’t hurt you.”
“I want to believe you, Weston…”
Tipping her chin up, I lock eyes with her. “I’ve got you, Hurricane. Trust me.”
She blinks up at me through the dark fringe of her lashes. “I do trust you.”
“Then take the shot, Harbor.”
She lifts up on tiptoe and kisses me like I’m the only game she’s ever wanted to win.