Defensive Zone (The Dartmouth Cobras #2) (26 page)

"I know you two don't like
each other, but you
laughed
at her! That was . . . ."
She shook her head and hugged herself. "That was unbelievably
cruel. Even for you."

"Oriana." Mason stepped
forward and slid his hands under her elbows, easing her arms apart.
"It might have been cruel if he knew how she'd react. Or why it
would bother her so much. But he doesn't."

Perron
came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.
"Talk to us, darlin'."

She opened her mouth, hesitating
as she finally noticed Landon, standing there. The way she looked
him over made him feel like an ant under a magnifying glass that a
child might study or fry. "This is personal."

Leaving them alone to discuss
this would be the decent thing to do. But Oriana had these three
men and Silver had . . . just him. He gave Oriana a tight
half-smile. "Not to be crude, but I really don't give a shit if
it's 'personal'. Silver's hurting and I'm her friend."

Callahan
snorted.

The muscles in Landon's forearms
twitched. "Captain, I'm real close to making sure you're listed
with an upper body injury. Due to a broken nose."

His Captain's eyes darkened. "Do
I need to remind you you're a guest here?"

"So is Silver."

"All right! Enough!"
Oriana dropped her head back and leaned on Mason. "Our father used
to laugh at her. She'd do something girly, like scream at a spider
or cry over a broken nail and he'd laugh. If his business partners
were around he'd call her his silly little doll. And they'd laugh
with him because she'd—she'd scream and ask him if he loved her at
all and if he did why didn't he help her? I know it probably sounds
stupid, but it got worse as she got older. Every time she came to
him with a problem he'd make her tell him in front of other men and
then he'd make a joke out of it. I asked him once why he did it . .
. she was eleven and she'd just gotten her period. I never talked
to her about it because . . . ." She made a face and focussed on
her slippers. "I started mine after her. I never even thought about
it. Anyway, he told me she needed to toughen up. What I didn't get
is why she still went to him, even after he humiliated her . . .
."

"She wanted the man to act
like a daddy," Perron said, softly. "She still does."

Landon's stomach twisted into a
knot as tight as the fist pressed to his sides. He picture Silver,
that beautiful woman, as a little girl, tiny, fragile. And
alone.

"I'm going to see if she's
okay." He sucked his teeth when Callahan stepped in front of him.
"Try and stop me."

"That's not what I'm
doing." Callahan closed his eyes and sighed. "Just tell her . . .
tell her I'm sorry. I'd tell her myself, but I don't think she
wants to see me right now."

"I'll tell her."

When he stopped by the door, he
realized his hands were still fisted and forced them open.
Unclenched his jaw. Relaxed his features so she wouldn't take one
look at him and see the rage boiling within. The extreme reaction
wouldn't make sense to most people, but all he kept thinking of was
his dad, hugging Becky and treating her like she was special. Hell,
he'd done the same for Landon. Granted, he'd gotten the men don't
cry lecture, but as a little boy his tears had been kissed away as
his father gently reminded him he wasn't a man yet.

Why couldn't someone have done
that for Silver?

Composed as possible, Landon
opened the door, prepared to do all the hugging and kissing needed
to make things right. But the woman who faced him wasn't his sweet,
vulnerable Silver. She was the closed off, untouchable Silver
Delgado.

"Oh! I'm glad you came. I really
didn't want to go back in there and deal with the drama to say
goodbye." She wrinkled her nose in a way that seemed scripted and
fake. "One thing I miss about Hollywood. It kept me too busy to
come down for all the family mess. Maybe, if I don't cut it as the
owner, I can go back."

"Mignonne." He reached out
for her, but she skirted away and burrowed in her purse for a
lollypop. His sleepy cock woke a little at her provocative sucking,
but his concern kept his blood pumping in his heart and his head
where it belonged. "Don't slip into some role and pretend it's all
right. It's not all right."

"What's not all right?"
Holding the lollypop in one hand, she licked her lips and gave him
a slow once over. "Landon, you're a sweetheart, but you worry too
much. My family's not like yours, but that's okay. And really, it
could be worse. Look at me. I'm fine."

He looked at her. Perfect
hair. Perfect makeup. Her clothes were all fresh and if she had a
flaw he couldn't find it. The shiny shield she never held up to him
was firmly in place. "Don't do this."

"This? Landon, think about it.
You held me while I fell apart last night and I appreciate that,
but I'm not as damaged as you think. We'll talk more later, but now
. . . ." She checked her phone. "Uck, I have to hurry. See you at
the game?"

No use in pushing any
more. She wasn't ready to let him in. He nodded. "Sure. We can hang
out in the bleachers."

She let out a light laugh that
reverberated up his spine like a knife scratching porcelain. "Sloan
didn't tell you? You've been cleared to play! I get to watch you
between the pipes!"

"That's great." A shallow buzz
of excitement rushed through him, diluted by the fact that holding
him at arm's length wasn't enough. She was pushing him further and
further away. "Maybe after we can—"

"You're going to the club
tonight, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, I guess I'll see you
there." Her mask slipped and she groaned. "My shoes—could you get
them for me?"

He nodded and left the room,
walked stiffly to the kitchen, and returned without a word to
anyone. Not that anyone had tried to speak to him. He had a feeling
they all knew who waited for him in that room.

After slipping into her shoes,
Silver gave him a quick peck on the cheek. When their eyes met she
tripped away from him. "I—I really appreciate everything."

Another vague nod. He had no
idea what to say. This was goodbye.

But as he watched her from the
front door, getting into her car and waving gaily at the shoddily
hidden camera crew, something inside him snapped into place.

Not goodbye. Not for long. They
were friends and that wasn't going to change.

This woman might be Silver
Delgado. The actress. The infamous playgirl.

But she hadn't met Landon Bower.
The man who played to win.

It was about time she did.

The Arena wasn't fancy, it
didn't even have press boxes and only had a quarter of the seats
the Delgado Forum held, but in 24 hours, they'd filled it. Every
man, woman, and child stood as the local Canadian Idol finalist
sang the anthem. Silver trembled with anticipation as she watched
Landon take his place between those red metal bars. Sloan met his
younger counterpart at center ice. The puck dropped. And all those
big, strong bodies collided.

Silver leaned forward,
restraining herself from pressing her face against the glass as the
farm team—The Queen's Vipers, took control and plowed the net. A
firm arm around her shoulder held her together as she cringed.
Landon sprawled under a pile of bodies and lay on top of the puck
for three long seconds. The ref blew the whistle.

"This wasn't a mistake, was it?"
She tipped her head up to see Dean whose focus seemed on keeping
her warm instead of on the ice where it belonged. "He's ready?"

"He's ready." Dean hugged her
tight, then leaned down to whisper in her ear. "This isn't your
baby out there. He's your friend and a full grown man who's
dedicated his life to standing between those pipes. I understand
your concern, but you need to know I wouldn't risk an asset to our
team, or a man's career, to put on a show. The doctor checked him
out. He's in good shape."

My friend. Do
not forget. Must not forget.
If she
showed too much concern, people might wonder. "Looks like a lot of
money to me, Dean. Maybe I'm not that good at numbers, and I'm
woman enough to admit it. But I'll take your word for
it."

Seconds later, she almost
retracted her words. Carter, their cocky young forward, iced the
puck. He won the faceoff, but almost put the puck in his own net.
The Viper's sharpshooter caught the rebound. Dominik knocked Landon
over trying to cover the right side of the net.

Landon rose and gave him a hard
shove. He gestured to the blue ice with his stick and waved his
blocker in front of his face, shouting something she couldn't quite
make out. Dominik shook his head and moved to skate away. Landon
grabbed his arm.

"Shit." Silver pressed her
hand to her throat and glanced over at the bench. The coach, Dean's
brother Tim, called to the men, but Dominik and Landon ignored
him.
Someone
had to do something. She turned to Dean. "Can't
you—"

"Not my job, sweetheart." He
nodded towards the rink. "But it's being taken care of."

Her lips curled as she watched
Sloan get between the men. Both Landon and Dominik looked ready to
start swinging and she secretly hoped they would, now that Sloan
might catch a stray punch or two. But Dominik backed off after just
a few words from Sloan and the game resumed without any further
issues.

It took awhile, but
eventually Silver found herself completely engaged in the game, no
longer flinching when Landon fell, or smiling in satisfaction when
Sloan's body was crushed against the boards. She whispered
questions to Dean less and less frequently as the pieces of the
game formed a complete picture in her mind. The intensity of each
play sent her heart to pounding as though she was the one out
there, flying across the ice as Scott did so effortlessly. Or Max
who passed the puck with foresight and precision, resulting in
rapid fire shots on net, and finally, the first goal.

The steady din from the
bleachers erupted. Silver covered her ears and laughed as Dean
grinned down at her. His eyes were wide and bright and the pure joy
made him look younger somehow. He truly loved this game and for the
first time she could see why. It was starting to grow on her
too.

"So, we've got some good
prospects out there? That kid who almost scored—"

Dean's brows shot up. "Kid? If
you're talking about Hart, he's three years older than you
are."

"I thought the guys on the farm
team were younger than the guys on the team."

"No, that's the juniors. There
are thirty year olds on the farm team. Some men spend their entire
careers there. Hart's not ready for the NHL, but he's decent if we
ever need to bring someone up." Dean pointed to another young man
who managed to steal the puck from Dominik and dart between Carter
and Max. "Collin Gail. He's eighteen, and he's got some growing to
do, but I think he'll be our top scorer in a year or two."

"A year or two." Silver wrinkled
her nose. "What good does that do us now?"

Before Dean could answer, she
gasped and bunched her hand in his shirt. Collin feigned to the
left, waited until Landon came out to meet him, and skidded to the
right. Blasted a shot at the open net—

Landon dived and her mouth
dropped open as he snatched the black blur out of thin air.

A gruff laugh at her side
brought her head up as the crowd lost their freakin' minds. Dean
was shaking his head. "Landon just robbed him. That was one hell of
a save."

She smiled so wide her cheeks
hurt as she rested her forehead against the glass and watched
Landon stand. He looked right back at her as his defensemen hit his
pads with their sticks, congratulating him. Even with the distance
between them, she could make out his face, all shiny with sweat.
And his beautiful grey eyes.

He winked.

Her heart sputtered and she
forced herself to back away from the glass.

Friends. Just friends.

She hadn't acted like much of a
friend this morning. It was just . . . uck, she couldn't say for
sure, except over the past week it had gotten easier and easier to
let her guard down with Landon. Which had been nice at first, but
she finally saw how weak it made her. She was losing control of her
emotions and almost falling apart in front of Sloan, of all people,
told her enough was enough.

Not that she wanted to stop
being friends with Landon. Only cool it down a bit before it turned
into something more than either of them could handle. She liked
Landon too much to let him get involved with a girl like her.

Dean touched her arm and bent
down to be heard over the ruckus surrounding them in the in-between
period rush for refreshments."Would you like a coffee?"

She shrugged. "How about a
beer?"

He frowned and shook his head.
"Coke?"

Frowning back, she jerked her
chin up. "Why can't I have a beer?"

"You think it would be good for
the press to see you drinking on the job, at a charity event?"

Gah, why does
he have to be right all the time?
"Diet
Coke please."

His lips tilted up as he
nodded and she blinked against the image of what those lips had
done to her body. Might do again tonight if she let him. Which she
really, really wanted to—after she figured a few things out about
herself.

He must have read something in
her expression, because he leaned over, his body language seeming
carefully controlled, but his words anything but. "You have no idea
what I want to do to you when you look at me like that."