Defensive Zone (The Dartmouth Cobras #2) (56 page)

"Gee. Thanks." He stood and stuffed the keys
in his pocket before grabbing the folders. "Anything else?"

Her lips slanted. "I'll let you know."

The door to her office opened just as he
approached it. Asher made a strangled sound and tripped backwards
as Dean strode in and reached for him.

Dean let out a feral sound. "You
son-of-a-bitch. You've got some nerve—"

"Dean!" For some odd reason, she wanted to
giggle as Asher scampered across the office to put her desk between
him and Dean. She cut in front of Dean before he could follow. "I
just had the carpets cleaned. Don't kill him in here, please."

The solid chest under her hand rose and fell
with Dean's measured breaths. "What is he doing here? He almost got
you killed!"

Asher sidestepped behind her. "I almost did
what? What are you talking about?"

"Ford Kingsley threatened her! After you sent
her to him! Getting her shot once wasn't enough?"

"That was an accident. I wasn't
expecting—"

"I don't want to hear it." Dean's lip curled
away from his teeth. "Get your pathetic ass out of here before I
pitch you out that fucking window."

"Dean." Silver hooked her finger to his
collar and tugged. "Look. At. Me. Asher isn't responsible for what
happened with Ford. He couldn't have known—"

"Bullshit. He's fucking dirty enough to have
figured out who you were dealing with. I don't want him anywhere
near you." Dean cupped her cheek and bent down to kiss her. "Maybe
I didn't act like it yesterday, but I care about you. If you're
still . . . if that shit is still a problem, I'll help you however
I can."

"It's not." She wanted to ask him about Jami,
but not in front of Asher. So she focused on what they both already
knew. "I told you, I've been clean for nine months."

"But you keep that vial in your purse . . .
." He sighed and shook his head. "I need you to know I believe you.
You're not doing that shit anymore, and I'm damn proud of you for
quitting on your own. It's just a bad idea for you to have that
crap on you. I understand why you do, but—"

"Her little vial?" Asher laughed. "So she
finally told you about that?"

Dean dropped a fisted hand to his side. "You
can leave now."

"Actually, I can't. My new boss gave me tons
of work." Asher sidled around the desk. "I wouldn't worry too much
about her 'stash' though. It's not coke."

Silver spun around and her and Dean spoke as
one. "What?"

"I tossed it about a month after you quit.
Just in case. Replaced it with icing sugar." Asher shrugged as he
inched closer to the door. "You fucked up your life when you were
on that shit. Hell, I'm no fucking saint. You were my meal ticket,
but I also considered you a friend. I knew you wouldn't tell me if
you slipped up, so I made damn sure I'd find out if you did."

"You didn't trust me."

"
You
hadn't earned it." Asher glanced
at the door. "I'm gonna head to my office now, if that's okay?"

"Go ahead." Silver stared after him as he
hustled out.
Damn. Just . . . damn.
All this time, that was
all she'd wanted from him. To know he cared. And maybe he hadn't in
any romantic sense, but he'd still looked out for her in his own
way. She bit the tip of her tongue and peered up at Dean. "So . . .
are we good?"

Dean inhaled and nodded slowly. "I don't like
that you've got him working for you."

"I know."

"But, so long as you don't let him get you
involved in anything dangerous, I'll accept it." He groaned and
dropped a hard kiss on her lips. "I'm sorry about yesterday. I was
. . . cruel."

"No you weren't. You were a father, scared
for his little girl."

"And you were trying to help."

"I made things worse."

"No, actually, you didn't." He drew her
towards her desk and sat her on the edge. "I hope you don't mind,
but I discussed what you went through with Jami. Not that I know
much—it didn't seem to matter though. I think it made her feel
better that I still loved you, even though you've made some
mistakes. She agreed to go to rehab . . . there's a place in
Halifax, close to my mother. She said she wants to stay with her
grandmother for a bit and get away from the people she was hanging
out with here. I offered to take some time off, to help her through
this . . . ." He closed his eyes. "She said that would make things
worse. Knowing she was taking me away from my job, from you . . .
we argued about it for awhile, until she broke down and made me
promise not to let her ruin my life like she'd ruined hers."

Silver stroked his darkly scruffed jaw. "She
hasn't ruined her life though. She's young. She'll get past
this."

His lips hardened and he shrugged. "Yes, but
she insisted that she could only do that if I let her go. By
herself."

"She won't be by herself. She'll be with your
mother."

Dean laughed. "That's the only reason I
agreed. She knows my mother is stricter than I ever was. I'll have
to tell you about her one day, but for now, let's just say she
handled two 'husbands', their three wives, and ten kids. Without
any drama. I didn't have a traditional upbringing, but all my
brothers and sisters turned into good, strong people. Because of
her."

"Ten kids?" She had to stop herself from
putting her hand over her stomach.
It's been a day. Seriously,
don't get all panicky.
But the words escaped her before she
could stop them. "Damn. I can't even picture myself dealing with
one."

His brow furrowed. "Do you want kids?"

"Maybe." She moved away from him and went
back to her chair. "When I'm not so busy."

"We'll talk again in ten years then." He
moved closer when she shuffled through the papers on her desk.
"Hey, is everything all right? Or am I just keeping you from your
work?"

"You're not mad at me anymore?"

"I never was."

"All right, then everything is perfect." She
patted her cluttered desk. "But yeah, you're very distracting. I've
got half a mind to throw all this stuff on the floor and—"

"Bad girl." He chuckled and leaned over to
kiss her forehead. "I have a few things to deal with before the
Cobras go back on the road. I wish we could have gotten more home
games. Are you going to be okay with Landon being gone so
much?"

"I'm going to have to be." And maybe it was
for the best. By the time he got back for his first home game,
she'd know for sure if . . . .

Just take the fucking pills!

But she couldn't. Some part of her had
already decided to let the cards fall where they were meant to. And
hopefully Landon wouldn't hate her for it. Not that she'd blame him
if he did.

"Something's bothering you."

Her head shot up. Dean was way too attentive.
What if he figured it out?

He's not a damn mind reader. Relax!

She smiled and ducked her head. "Not really.
You guys have just been spoiling me. I don't know
what
I'm
going to do if I go more than a day without a sore butt."

"I won't be far, Silver." He gave her a heavy
lidded grin. "If you want, we can call Landon every night so I can
dole out punishments on his behalf."

"Umm, how about no freakin' way?"

"We'll see." He straightened and tugged on
his belt. "Okay, if I don't leave now, we will be using this desk
and my rules won't count for anything. Spend the night at my
place?"

"Gladly. Mine needs help."

"Maybe this weekend." Dean loosened his tie
and took a big step back. "Just promise me one thing before I
go."

She cocked her head and waited.

"Promise you'll come to me when you need me.
Don't ever be afraid that I'll judge you. I wasn't yesterday, I
just—"

"Let's forget yesterday." She looked into his
eyes and saw that he sensed something. She
would
have to
tell him. But not yet. "But I promise."

After he left, she did her best to get into
her work. But she couldn't focus. Something was off. Dean read her
well, but she had a feeling he wasn't just guessing.

Her heart lodged in her throat when she
reached for a file and realized her pills were still there, half
hidden, but not enough for anyone to wonder what they were. Dean
knew she'd missed at least a day.

He hadn't guessed anything. He knew.

Dean checked the roast in the oven and smiled
as Silver came up behind him to whisper in his ear. "Give me
something to do. I can't deal with Becky anymore."

Three weeks without Landon, and he knew
Silver wanted him all to herself. And she would've had him, if his
flight hadn't been delayed. Silver had actually gotten on her knees
and begged him to come with her to Landon's newly restored
apartment. Not that he hadn't planned to come anyway, even if he
had to invite himself. Losing his best goalie and the woman he
loved to a kitchen fire was
not
an option. It had been
awkward, explaining his presence—Landon's subtlety left much to be
desired, and Dean didn't know what to do with the cold looks from
his father, but after hours on the plane, the very idea of a good
meal seemed to compose the man. He'd come into the kitchen once to
thank Dean for not letting his son and the 'pampered chick' he'd
gotten involved with, poison his family.

Flattering. Really.
The man wasn't
much older than he was. It was hard not to lash out when he
criticized Silver. But his mother had always told him extended
family was something you dealt with when you chose this kind of
lifestyle. She had dealt with too many 'in-laws' to count. If all
he had to deal with was Delgado, Oriana, and Landon's brood . .
.

He smiled at Silver and pointed to the
lettuce on the counter. "Chop that up and toss everything in the
small bowls into the salad. If you cut yourself because you get
distracted, I'll use the cane on you tonight. Deal?"

Her lips twisted. "Are you a sadist?"

"No. But if you wanted one, you should have
been nicer to Callahan."

"Yeah. Fuck you."

"That's one, Silver. I'm not Landon. We don't
have 'off time'."

"You're such a dick. Really? Are we sticking
with office hours?" She pouted and moved away to chop the lettuce.
"No time out?"

"No. And that's two."

"Why not skip straight to five so I can have
some fun?" She attacked the lettuce with the knife as though it
needed to be murdered before consumption. "If you wanted me to be
scared of the cane, you shouldn't have spent the last two weeks
showing me how much I can enjoy it."

The sound that left him was something between
a laugh and a growl. "Keep it up and I'll let Landon cane you."

"You never hand punishments to Landon." She
crunched on a piece of lettuce. "But I suppose the appropriate
response is 'oh, please, Master, don't!"

"Ten. With the tawse." That got her
attention. And wiped the smile from her face. "Are you done
yet?"

Lips pursed, she studied his face and shook
her head. "You're joking, aren't you?"

"What makes you think that?"

"You didn't use the 'Me Dom, you Jane'
voice." She yelped and jumped out of reach when he took a swipe at
her butt with a wooden spoon. "I'm going to see if anyone wants
some pickles."

"Pickles?" He looked her over. No, it was too
soon for cravings.

She gave him a curious glance before taking a
tray out of the fridge. "Yes. Pickles. With little onions and
cheese. Appetizers, caveman."

"Silver." He let his tone drop to the one she
took very seriously. "I'm done counting. I expect you to do so for
the rest of the night. I enjoy spending time with you, and joking
with you, but I won't tolerate insults, even in fun. That is how
you play with Landon. Not with me."

Muttering, her expression a little sulky, she
carried the tray to the door. "Yes, Sir."

Shaking his head, he went to finish making
the salad. Sometimes he wondered if he should just let her take her
little verbal jabs, but he didn't like the idea of a relationship
where they were continuously cursing at each other and calling each
other names. It wasn't as if she wasn't capable of speaking to him
with the same amount of respect he gave her.

Actually, he couldn't remember the last time
she'd gotten mouthy with him. Before Landon went on the road trip,
perhaps. It was entirely possible that she was acting out because
she was nervous.

Dean put on some vegetables to steam and went
to slice some bread for the table. He heard laughter from the
dining room and set down the knife. Standing in the doorway, he
watched Landon's family, enjoying their comfortable interactions,
wondering, briefly, where Silver had disappeared to.

Adam Bower, Landon's father, raised his beer
to his lips and grinned at his daughter. "Relax, Becky. Casey can't
hear, she's teaching Silver all about the Little Mermaid. We're all
adults." He turned to his son. "I ever tell you about the couple
fooling around in the woods, Landon?"

"Dad!" Becky let out a huff and looked to her
mother. "Can't you stop him? I hate it when he tells dirty jokes at
the table!"

"Becky, you know very well I can't stop him
once he gets going. And besides, I don't want to." Erin Bower
patted her daughter's hand. "It never bothered you until you got
married. You're divorced now and we do not have to deal with that
stuck up bastard anymore. Let your father have some fun."

"Can't we discuss something normal? Like
politics?" Becky glanced over at Dean and turned red. "The
weather?"

"We can always discuss your interview with
Scott Demyan." Dean moved into the room to take a seat beside
Landon. "I never did get any details. I hope he was . . .
cooperative?"

The red spread from Becky's cheeks right up
to her hairline and down her throat. "He was fine. So you were
saying, dad—about the couple—"