Any Man Of Mine (15 page)

“That’s not something to brag about.”

“Not bragging. I’m just gifted.” He held up three fingers, then lowered them one at a time.

“You’re gifted all right.” She didn’t wait for the final finger before she turned on her heels and ran. His hand on the back of her jersey stopped her and slammed her back against the hard wall of his chest. “Sam!”

“Come help me, Conner,” he called out, and wrapped one big arm around her ribs just beneath her breasts.

“No, Conner!”

The little traitor ran into the kitchen and looked up at his dad. “What do you want me to do?”

“Hold her undershirt down so it doesn’t come off with the jersey.”

“Stop,” she protested through a laugh. “Conner, go to bed! I mean it.”

“No way.” He reached his little hands beneath the jersey and grabbed the bottom of the long-sleeved thermal shirt creeping up her stomach.

“I’m your mom. You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“We can do this easy,” Sam said into the top of her head. “Or we can go hard. You choose.”

She tried to squirm out of his arms, but it was useless. “I’m keeping my Pittsburgh jersey. It cost me over two hundred bucks.” Outmuscled and outmanned, the jersey was whipped over her head. For a brief second, it caught on her ponytail, then she found herself in a tug-of-war with her son. “Let go.”

“Hold—her—Dad,” Conner managed between peals of wild laughter and grunts of raw effort.

With both arms around her, Sam held her even tighter. “Take it and hide it somewhere,” he told Conner.

“You’re in big trouble,” she warned her son. “No more cartoons for you.”

In response, he tugged so hard his face turned red. She rose onto the balls of her feet and used her foot in his little tummy for leverage, but he ripped the jersey from her fingers. He tumbled across the kitchen floor, then took off. “Don’t let her go till I hide it, Dad.”

“She’s not going anywhere.” His arms tightened even more, and she suddenly became very aware of him pressed against her back and behind. Suddenly became aware of being surrounded by a heavy man blanket, throwing off waves of heat. She stilled as the heat of him seeped through her pores. Two of his fingers brushed her bare waist where her shirt had risen.

Other than the males in her own family or the occasional handshake, the last man who had touched her was the man touching her now. Yes, she felt the heat and pure male grit of Sam. Just like all those years ago in Vegas. What she didn’t feel this time was the jump in her pulse.

“Let go, Sam.”

Respects Boundaries

“Y
ou about done, Conner?” Sam called out. He glanced from the doorway to the top of Autumn’s head. Her messed-up ponytail tickled his cheek. It had been a long time since he’d been this close to a woman and been fully dressed. Especially this woman. He half expected an elbow in the gut and head butt to his chin.

“Not yet, Dad.”

Instead, she dropped to her heels and slid down his body. A slow friction that ignited a fire and burned down his stomach to his groin. His fingers pressed into her bare skin. He couldn’t help it. It just happened, and a deep, heavy groan vibrated his chest. A sort of sound that only meant one thing, and he hoped like hell she didn’t notice.

“I need some water.” She turned her face and looked up at him. “Want some cold water?”

That close, her eyes were very green. Not like emeralds. Warmer. Like when the trees finally turned in Saskatchewan. “No.” He dropped his hands and turned from the kitchen.
Trees in Saskatchewan? Where the hell had that come from
? Yeah. He needed some cold water. He needed to dump it in his crotch.

He moved into the living room and reached for his coat on the couch. “I gotta get going.” Before he did something totally insane, like starting to have sexual thoughts about the mother of his child. About Autumn. The women who hated and confused him more than any woman on the planet. “Conner!” he called out as he slipped into his wool coat, which thankfully covered the beginning promise of a full-blown erection.

“Yeah, Dad?” He came down the hall empty-handed. “Are you leaving now?”

“I’ve had a long week.” True, but not the reason he had to go. “I’ll call you Monday after practice and maybe we’ll go to one of those kiddy fun centers you like.”

“Can we golf? I’m good at golfing.”

Autumn walked out of the kitchen, hair still in a wild just-got-laid mess, blue thermal shirt hugging her like a second skin and a glass of water in one hand. “Sure,” he said as he looked down at the buttons on his coat.

“I have to work until around two. So he’ll be at his day care Monday after school.”

“I’ll send Natalie to pick him up.”

He looked across the room at her as she shoved one shoulder against the entrance into the dining room. There was something different about her that night. She was softer. More approachable, but that wasn’t it.

“You probably know my newest clients.” He’d noticed
it
a few weeks ago when she’d stood at the bottom of her stairs looking at him. “The Ross twins,” she continued. “One of them is marrying Mark Bressler. I think he’s your coach.”

“Yeah, I know Mini Pit and Short Boss.” Just a few months ago, he’d flirted with Chelsea at the Stanley Cup party. He liked her, and she was cute, but mostly he’d just wanted to piss off Mark. That’s what friends were for.

“The other twin, Bo, is marrying someone in the Chinooks’ organization. Someone named Julian.”

“Jules Garcia?” He motioned for Conner to come give him a hug good-bye. “Didn’t see that one coming.” Mostly because Mini Pit scared grown hockey players, and a lot of the guys thought Jules was gay. Sam had never thought so, but the guy did favor pastels, moisturizers, and hair products.

He gave Conner a big hug, and it wasn’t until he was locked up in his truck on the way home that he realized what was different about Autumn.

Nothing.

He took the 405 through Bellevue, the lights of the city a blur sliding across his windshield as he thought about Autumn and her deep green eyes. There was nothing in her eyes when she looked at him. No resentment nor hate. No passion or anger.

Good. Nothing was much preferable to the anger he’d seen in her eyes for so many years. He’d caused that anger. Deserved his share of it, but no one had ever hated him like Autumn. Not even hockey players he’d sent flying into the boards. Living with Autumn’s hatred had always been a regretful fact of his life. One that had made his relationship with Conner difficult.

But what now? He just couldn’t ever see them as friends. First off, he didn’t have women friends, and second, there was too much bitterness and baggage. They’d been two combatants doing battle in the face-off circle for far too long. Guarded. Ready to fight. Except for tonight.

She’d been relaxed, and he’d let his guard slip, and for a few brief moments, things had been easy. Maybe too easy. Hearing her laughter reminded him of the girl she’d been long ago. The one who’d joked and laughed and made love all day. There was a lot about that time in Vegas he didn’t remember, but there was enough that he did. Enough that twisted his head around and turned him inside out with guilt and confusion.

She was the mother of his child. The woman who blew hot and cold. The very last woman on the planet he wanted twisting his head and turning him any which way.

Least of all on.

A
utumn sat across her desk from Chelsea and Bo Ross. She was all business, in a black crepe dress from the forties with little cap sleeves and rhinestone buttons.

The moment the identical twins walked into her office, she knew the double wedding ceremony they wanted wouldn’t work. Bo’s dark little ponytail and black suit made her look like she resided on the wrong coast, while Chelsea was a riot of color in a purple-and-pink Pucci dress and red platform heels. They were short and cute, with big breasts and large personalities.

Chelsea leaned forward and put her hand on the desk. “We decided on the third Saturday in July.”

“The hockey season will be over,” Bo clarified.

“Mark and I will be moved into our house in Chapel Hill.”

“And Jules and I will hopefully have found a house by then.” Bo put her hand over her sister’s. “For our wedding, we were thinking understated. Black and white with a touch of pewter.”

“I doubt Jules was thinking black and white, and Mark doesn’t care as long as he doesn’t have to plan any of it.” Chelsea smiled and slid her hand out from beneath her sister’s. “I want a garden theme with lots of color. Purples and pinks with splashes of red and yellow.”

“No.”

“Black and white is boring. You need more color in your life.”

“And you’re like an abstract painting that no one gets but you.”

“Ladies,” Autumn interjected. “How set are you on having a dual ceremony?”

They both looked at Autumn like she was speaking a language they didn’t understand. “We got engaged within days of each other.”

“It seems right,” they said at the same time.

“A double ceremony is tricky.” Autumn leaned forward in her chair and folded her arms on the desk. “And every bride deserves to have her day made special just for her. Bo, you’re very understated, and Chelsea, you’re bold and love color. You both deserve your moment, but I fear your tastes are so different, they’re incongruent to the wedding of your dreams.”

“But our family will have to make two trips to Seattle.”

Bo shook her head. “Not if we have one wedding on a Friday night and the other on a Saturday.”

Autumn smiled. “Exactly.”

“I get Saturday.”

Bo shook her head. “Jules has more family. I get Saturday.”

“We don’t have to decide that today,” Autumn interrupted, and changed the subject to one every bride loved. “Have you two gone dress shopping yet? I can help you with that or give you the names of some great shops.”

“I’m not looking at dresses until after Christmas,” Chelsea said. “I’m having breast reduction surgery on the twenty-ninth, so I really don’t see the point in trying on a dress now.”

Bo looked at her sister, a deep scowl between her eyes. “I read a statistic about the number of people who die from cosmetic surgery.”

“It’s not cosmetic.”

“Yes it is.”

“No it isn’t.”

“It’s mutilation.”

Chelsea closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Do we have to do this now?” She turned and looked at her sister. “Today?”

“No.” Bo shook her head. “I’m sorry. You can have Saturday.”

“No. Jules has a big family. You take Saturday.”

Autumn felt a great stabbing pain in the center of her forehead. She was almost afraid to ask. “How involved will the grooms be in the planning process?”

“Mark, not at all. Except for the two weeks he’s taking off for my surgery, he’s on the road with the Chinooks until spring.” Chelsea raised a hand and waved it around. “And he’s not really a planner anyway.”

“Jules will help. Although…” Bo conceded, “his love of pastels might be a problem.”

Chelsea smiled at her sister. “Jules has great taste. You should let him work with the planner instead of you.”

Once the twins got past the idea of a dual ceremony and stopped arguing about who had the worse taste, the meeting calmed. Autumn quickly discovered that both women were very organized and knew what they wanted. They knew how much they wanted to spend and how much each wanted to be involved in the actual nuts and bolts of planning. They were very much alike in that regard, and the three of them went over the contracts quickly and thoroughly.

Both women were marrying high-profile men. Especially Chelsea. Mark Bressler was a hockey legend in Seattle, and she wondered if the two would mind if she submitted their photos to trade magazines. Once she became a little more familiar with the two, she’d broach the subject.

Bo pulled out her ponytail holder, then gathered her hair at the back of her head once more. “I think we’re about done here, and I need to get some work done.” Her brows lowered as she looked over Autumn’s right shoulder. “That boy looks familiar.”

Autumn glanced behind her at the many photos of Conner on the shelves behind her.

“He looks like the kid whose been in the players’ lounge the last few games. He comes with one of Sam’s tall, dark-haired, big-lipped women.”

Chelsea folded her arms beneath her breasts. “Your basic nightmare.”

“That’s my son, Conner.” She looked from one twin’s face to the other, then added, “LeClaire.”

Light dawned in Bo’s blue eyes. “Ah.”

“I didn’t know Sam had a son. How old is he?”

“Five,” Autumn answered. “Sam and I weren’t married for very long.” Which was an understatement. “Being married to a hockey player just wasn’t for me.” From the beginning, she and Sam had agreed for Conner’s sake to keep the particulars of their marriage short and sweet. It was about the only thing they’d ever really agreed on. There were only three other people who knew the whole truth. Vince and Sam’s two buddies. And as far as she knew, the buddies hadn’t spilled the truth.

“That kind of life is hard on a family,” Bo agreed. “It takes a lot of commitment and a strong woman. Hockey players are great, but some can be real dogs.”

Chelsea gasped. “Bo!”

“Oh, I don’t mean Mark.”

Chelsea cut her eyes toward Autumn. “Watch what you say.”

“It’s okay.” Autumn laughed. “Sam is a huge dog.”

Chelsea smiled. “But he’s a charming dog.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out with you. I’ve always liked Sam. He used to come over to Mark’s and pick him up when he couldn’t drive. He’s been a really good friend to Mark.”

“Yes.” Autumn didn’t know how good a friend Sam could be, but she did know that he could be a charming dog. He’d certainly charmed her six years ago. Charmed her right out of her bikini bottoms.

Bo stood and reached for her little black backpack. “Jules and I usually sit in the owner’s box for most home games. If you ever want to come and bring Conner, let me know.”

“Won’t Faith mind?”