Between a Jock and a Hard Place (7 page)

“Do you go back very often?”

“Not as much as I should.” He gave her a wry smile. “Too much travel, I guess.”

“Speaking of which, how did you make out on the trip?”

He hesitated a moment. “I did fine.”

“What type of sports equipment are you selling at this time of year?”

He looked uncomfortable. “They order several seasons ahead. We’re showing winter sports equipment right now.” He looked up at the sound of footsteps on the dock. A silver-haired man walked between the boats.

“Hi Jack.” The man’s gaze rested on Claire for a moment. “How’s everything?”

“Fine, Roy. We’re just having lunch.”

“Good day for it.” The man swung aboard the adjoining boat and disappeared inside.

“My neighbour,” he said. “He’s a retired stock broker.”

Claire looked after him. “Did he just call you Jack?”

“Yeah, I guess he did.” He thought for a moment. “Actually, most people call me Jack. It’s sort of a nickname for John. You know, like JFK?”

She thought for a moment. “It just startled me, that’s all.” She started to pack up the remains of the picnic.

“Here, let me help you with that.” He reached for the empty salad containers and their fingers brushed. The jolt of sexual energy that passed between them was unmistakable. They both glanced into the cabin at the same time.

John groaned. “I have a meeting this afternoon.”

Claire nodded. “And I have to get some work done.”

“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asked with a wicked grin.

She thought quickly. She had promised to take Cam for an MRI in the morning, but her afternoon was free. “I’m busy in the morning, but I should have things tied up by around noon.”

“Good.” He gave her a deep kiss, filled with promise. “I’ll show you my place tomorrow.”

* * *

Jack stood at the window of his condo and looked out over the harbour. He could see the mast of his sailboat, nothing more, but it was enough to raise his pulse rate. Sex with Claire had been the best of his life; he’d known from the outset that it would be fantastic, so he wasn’t surprised. What
did
surprise him was the underlying feeling of tenderness he’d experienced with her in his arms. With Claire it had been more than just a physical act. Maybe that’s why it had been so good. He let out a long, slow breath and turned back to get changed. The team had an afternoon skate today and his legs felt like rubber. He knew he was in for some ribbing from the young guys but it had been worth it.

On the familiar route to the arena he faced the question he’d been avoiding ever since their first meeting. Why hadn’t he told her who he was? He’d had the perfect opportunity just now, when his neighbour had called him Jack.

He came to a stop and stared at the red light without really seeing it. If they were to have a relationship, and it looked like that was about to happen, then he had to be honest with her. The cars beside him began to move and he took his foot off the brake. He’d have to find a way to tell her tomorrow. A vision of her lying nude on the bed flashed into his mind and he felt a stirring in his groin. He was already thinking of making love to her again.

* * *

“I’ll wait for you by the coffee kiosk near the front door.” Claire dropped Cam off at the entrance nearest the Imaging Department. “Come find me when you’re finished, okay?”

“Okay.” Cam still looked haggard. He’d told her that he hadn’t been sleeping well in his single bed in the family home, but that he’d fared much better last night in his own condo. His condition worried her and she silently vowed to keep an eye on him.

She parked the car and grabbed her notebook. She couldn’t speed up Cam’s healing, but she could ratchet up the heat on her next blog. She grabbed a coffee and found a quiet corner where she could work. She’d been composing the blog in her head for some time, and the words flowed effortlessly from her mind to the screen.

Everyone is entitled to their opinions, but there are some instances where expressing them in a public forum is downright dangerous!

Take for example the rebuttal to my original blog about violence in hockey. Who does this guy think he’s kidding?  At least I assume it’s a guy.

Let’s stop tap dancing around and get down to the real heart of the matter with some cold, hard facts. First of all, the problems haven’t been solved, as the “pro-violence” blogger would have you believe.

There were three untimely deaths of former ‘enforcers’ this summer. Coincidence? I don’t think so. Informed doctors believe that brain injuries suffered from concussion can induce depression.

While the NHL rejoices that their biggest star has returned to hockey, they fail to mention the talented centre who might never return, thanks to post-concussion symptoms. And how many people have given a second thought to the player who has ten pieces of titanium holding his face together?

Why is this violence permitted, or in some cases encouraged? The answer is simple: money. Today’s hockey fan wants to see those illegal checks which almost inevitably lead to fights. Fans stand up and cheer during and after a fight. And don’t tell me that fighting is an integral part of the game. Hockey used to be a game of skill, not a pugilistic free for all. Fans have been conditioned to expect these fights.

Could these vicious checks and fights be stopped with stiffer penalties? Many insiders think so. But as of today, the penalty for fighting a pre-arranged “grudge match” between two enforcers is a mere five minutes and oh, wait for it...two extra minutes if one of them is cut. It’s laughable.

So what are we going to do about this? I have some ideas that I’ll share with you in my next blog. In the meantime, I’d like to hear what you think.

She paused, read it over and pressed save. She’d been concentrating so hard she hadn’t noticed the ripple of excitement that ran through the other people seated around tables in the coffee area. She looked up to see a tall man in a leather jacket disappearing down the hall in the direction of the elevators. All eyes seemed to be following his progress. She’d only caught a glimpse of him, but there was something familiar about the way he walked, and the broad shoulders.

She leaned toward the young couple at the adjoining table. “Who was that?” she asked.

“Jack Logan.” said the young man, obviously star-struck. “You know...the hockey player.”

 The woman giggled and leaned forward. “You didn’t see him?” She fluttered a hand at her chest. “So good looking. He stopped for a coffee, too.” She clutched at the young man’s arm. “Of course I’m happily married. We’re waiting for Ken’s mother. She’s having a colonoscopy.”

Claire nodded politely but couldn’t help thinking that there was definitely such a thing as too much information. She checked her watch and decided she had enough time for another coffee.

“Did you see Jack Logan?” The middle-aged woman behind the counter was still flushed from the encounter. She straightened her name tag, which read Shelley. “He’s so nice. Comes in here quite frequently, he does.”

“Oh?” Claire glanced down the hall but the man had disappeared.

“Yes.” He usually comes in with a blonde woman. Sits right over there, where you’re sitting and waits for him while he goes upstairs.” She leaned closer, lowered her voice. “Not very friendly, but you didn’t hear it from me.”

“No, of course not.” Claire tipped a packet of sweetener into her coffee. “He comes here regularly?”

The woman looked both ways, as though she were giving up state secrets. “He goes up to the childrens’ ward. They just love him up there.” She busied herself wiping off the counter. “The other celebrities who come here always have an entourage, including a photographer, but Jack just comes in on his own.” She paused long enough to take a breath. “And he always stops to say hello and buy a cup of coffee.”

“Sounds like a nice guy. I’d like to meet him some day.”

“You and every other single girl in Vancouver.”

“Really?” Claire smiled. “Thanks for the coffee.” She returned to the table. Thankfully, the young couple had left. Maybe she should Google this Jack Logan and find out what all the fuss was about. But first, she wanted to read over her blog again. It was due by tomorrow and with the availability of Wi-Fi in the hospital, she could send it now. She opened the document and began to read it over.

“Hi, Sis.” Cam appeared at the table and sat down across from her. “What are you working on?”

Claire held up a finger, pressed send and closed the computer. “Just something for home.” She didn’t want Cam asking to read it. “How did it go?”

“Okay. All I have to do is lie there, but when I got up I got dizzy again.” He looked at her cup. “Do you mind if I get a coffee? I’d like to sit for a minute before we go out to the car.” He got up before she could protest. “Back in a minute.”

He sat down and sipped at the coffee. “This is so much better than that stuff Dad makes in the mornings. Mom and Dad must be the last people on earth that drink perked coffee.” They laughed together but Cam stopped abruptly and stared over her shoulder. “Hey, look at that,” he said, eyes widening. “It’s Jack Logan.”

Claire looked over her shoulder. John stood on the other side of the coffee kiosk with several young boys clustered around him. He appeared to be signing autographs. She opened her mouth to speak but no sound came out. As though sensing her presence, he looked up and their eyes met. A smile lit up his face and he hurriedly signed the remaining autographs and walked over to their table.

“Claire!” He bent over and brushed his lips against her cheek. “What are you doing here?”

“John?” She looked from him to her brother. Something wasn’t adding up.

“You know this guy?” Cam stood up and offered his hand. “Hi, I’m Cameron Collins.”

Jack pulled up a chair and sat down. “Cameron Collins? Why do I know that name?”

“John, this is my brother.”

“Your brother?” He snapped his fingers. “I know. You’re the one who had the concussion, aren’t you?” He turned to Claire. “Why didn’t you tell me he was your brother?”

She was still in shock. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re a hockey player?”

He leaned forward. “I’m sorry, Claire. I was going to tell you today.”

Cam looked from one to the other. “You two guys are an item?”

Claire frowned.

“Yes.” Jack looked steadily at Cam. “We are. I hope you approve.”

Cam looked at Claire. “When were you going to tell me you’re dating Jack Logan?”

Claire rolled her eyes. “How could I tell you, when I just found out his name myself?”

Cam sat back in his chair. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“Welcome to the club.” Claire tried to be angry, but she couldn’t pull it off. She looked at John. “I don’t even know what to call you. Is it John, or Jack?

He lifted his shoulders and gave her a smile that melted her heart. “I think of myself as John, and my mother calls me John, but everyone else calls me Jack.” He reached for her hand, sending shivers of delight skittering through her body. “But I’ll answer to whatever you want to call me.”

She thought for a moment. “It will take some getting used to, but I think maybe Jack would be easier.” She looked into his eyes. “At least in public.”

“Hey, you two. Get a room.” Cam was watching them with a smile on his face.

“Speaking of which, are we still on for this afternoon?” Jack tore his eyes away from Claire. “Sorry, Cam. That didn’t sound right. Claire and I had a date this afternoon. I’d planned to come clean then.”

“Hey, you guys go ahead. I can get a cab home.”

“You will not!” Claire glared at her brother. “I’ll drop you off and then go on to Jack’s place. Don’t even try to argue.” She turned to Jack. “He’s still getting dizzy spells from the concussion.”

Jack’s brows drew together. “I saw the replay of that hit. It was definitely late.” He turned to Claire. “In my opinion, the guy who hit him should have received at least a game misconduct if not a suspension.”

Cam offered a wry smile. “I was cool with it at the time, but that was because I thought I’d bounce right back.”

Jack leaned forward, his concern obvious. “But you’re out for the rest of the season, right?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s just not right. That’s all there is to it.” He turned to Claire. “So. I’ll go home and wait for you there?” He picked up a napkin and jotted his address on it. “There are visitor parking spaces on the side of the building, and I’ll buzz you in.”