Icing On The Date (The Bannister Brothers #1) (17 page)

That must have been the last straw for Owen. He moved forward with the force of a bull. And not a regular bull. A Texas longhorn two-ton mass of bovine muscle kind of bull. His fist shot out and caught the idiot on the side of the chin, whipping his face sideways and sending his baseball cap flying.

He howled in pain and anger, but this guy was obviously a scrapper. And a dirty fighter. After his initial shock, he charged Owen, landing a shoulder in his gut.

But Owen was used to guys running into him, and guys a lot bigger than this one. He reached out with one hand, grabbed the back of the guy’s jacket and pulled it forward over his head as he used his other hand to land a solid punch in his face.

Gabby winced at the sickening crunch of his nose breaking, and Owen’s fist pulled back covered in blood.

Bright drops of blood splattered in the dirt as the idiot yelled at Owen in a garbled voice. “You broke my fucking nose. I’m going to kill you.”

The woman with him screamed as he barreled forward, his fists wildly swinging at Owen.

But at well over six feet tall and built as solid as a rock, the guy’s punches did little harm to him. Owen’s hits, however, were a different story. His fist connected with the guy’s stomach, and he doubled over as Owen pushed him back. The guy landed on the hard gravel with a grunt as the air escaped his chest.

Gabby scrambled to her feet screaming at the men. “Stop it!”

The man sneered up at her, blood smeared across his face, his eye already swelling shut.

She hated him. Hated him for hurting her brother and hated him for antagonizing Owen and starting this stupid fight. But as much as she hated him, she didn’t want to see anyone else get hurt.

She’d had enough violence for one night. She just wanted to get her brother out of here—he needed a hospital. Grabbing for Owen’s arm, she pleaded with him. “Let’s just go. Leave him alone. He’s not worth it.”

Owen shook off her hand, his eyes focused on the guy on the ground. The guy reached into his jacket and pulled out a knife. Brandishing it at Owen, he growled and crouched like a trapped animal. “You’re not going anywhere.”

The doors of the bar flew open, and two huge bouncers rushed out. They wore black T-shirts that fit snug against their broadly muscled chests. One guy’s head was shaved bald, and the other had a tight crewcut, and both looked like they’d just stepped out of the prison yard.

The taller of the two held up a billy club. “That’s enough. Buddy, you’re gonna want to put the knife down and go home. This fight’s over.”

Owen took a step back, his chest heaving with the anger and adrenaline of the fight. He held up his blood-covered hands. “I’m done. We just want to get our friend to the hospital.”

Gabby leaned down and got an arm under Justin’s shoulder, hauling him to his feet. He cradled his arm against his battered ribs as he limped toward her car. “We’re getting out of here.”

Owen backed up, nodding his understanding at the bouncers who were still guarding the guy on the ground. He pulled open the back door of Gabby’s car and helped her to guide Justin inside.

She climbed in after him, holding his head on her lap, the dried blood from his cut lip flaking on to her jeans. Wordlessly, Owen shut the door, slid into the front seat, and guided the car out of the parking lot.

They rode in silence to the nearest hospital.

Gabby’s focus was on Justin and trying to make him comfortable, but her mind kept recapping the events of the day. So many emotions were jumbled in her mind. She tried to offset the sweet thoughtful guy that she’d just spent the last several hours making love to with the violent-tempered guy in the parking lot who had just broken some guy’s nose and whose anger was so palpable it practically shimmered off his skin.

Pulling up to the emergency room door, Owen parked and jumped out, tossing her keys to the hospital valet and held the door for her. She had to concentrate on Justin and let all that other stuff go for now. Focus on Owen’s patience and kindness as he lifted her brother from the car and essentially carried him into the emergency room.

She spent the next hour filling out forms—thank goodness she’d added her brother as an employee at the bakery and got him on some health insurance—and waiting to see a doctor. A nurse had admitted Justin, and Gabby left Owen in the waiting room as she followed her brother back to a tiny room where the same nurse ran his vitals and brought in a basin of water to clean his wounds.

He was still drunk and heading into that part of the night where the depression and the head-spinning set in. Apologizing and regretful, he begged her to forgive him. Again.

She’d heard it all before.

Exhausted, she sank into the hard chair in the corner of the room. She wanted to cry, to curl into a ball, cover her head with blankets, and weep. She’d been here before, probably sat in this same chair as she’d watched a nurse clean the blood off her brother’s bruised and swollen face.

What the hell was wrong with him? Why wouldn’t he learn? They’d worked so hard to escape the violent life of pain and terror that they’d grown up in. Why did he choose to bring it back in with stupid bar fights and drunken brawls?

Did he feel like he still had something to prove? Did fighting with strangers make him feel somehow more in control—like he was finally standing up for himself when he couldn’t as a kid? Was he taking out all that pent-up anger and frustration on strangers just to prove he could finally fight back?

Or was this somehow the only thing he knew? Was the fear and hostility so familiar that he somehow needed it? Didn’t he realize that all this savagery and alcohol abuse was only going to lead to more pain and loss?

What was it going to take? For him to go to prison? Or worse?

She looked down at the smears of blood dried and caked on her fingers. What about her? Was this a lesson for her, too?

What was she doing getting mixed up with a guy that had violence and aggression as part of his daily life? As part of his job? He literally got paid to fight, to slam other guys into the boards and out of his way. They could have walked away tonight, but instead Owen had chosen to stay and fight.

Was this really the man she wanted to start a relationship with? To start a life with? Was it already too late?

She’d already given him her heart. But she’d had her heart broken before. And she’d survived. Because that what she did. She survived. She got through today and the next day. And the day after that.

She’d done her best to move beyond that life of violence and hostility. Did she really want to hook up with a guy that had aggression as part of his daily life?

Those thoughts ran through her mind as she waited for the doctor. And as she watched the nurse care for her brother. She winced as the nurse removed Justin’s shirt and saw that his entire rib cage was swollen and covered in a mass of purple and blue bruises.

The doctor eventually came in and examined Justin. He was fairly certain he had several broken ribs and a probable concussion. He stated that he wanted to keep him in the hospital at least overnight for observation as he tied a neat row of five stitches on Justin’s forehead above his eyebrow.

Smiling kindly at her, the nurse explained that they’d be taking Justin in for x-rays and then eventually moving him to a hospital room. She took Gabby’s cell phone number and gave her the directions to the patient waiting room, telling her that she’d call her as soon as they got him moved and settled, but that it would most likely be at least an hour.

Gabby nodded and leaned over her brother to gently kiss his messy hair. He’d finally fallen asleep—or more than likely passed out—and his breath came in soft, even snores. When he slept, she could still see the little boy in him, her kid brother, the one that she’d protected and cared for growing up. And was still taking care of now.

She wandered down the hall to the waiting room and was surprised to see Owen sitting in one of the blue chairs, his head bent over a sports magazine.

Her breath caught, and her heart ached in her chest as she stopped—paused just for a second—a second to take him in. To just look at him. He was so damn good-looking. So heart-breakingly handsome.

All she wanted to do was walk across the room and crawl into his lap—let him wrap her in his strong arms and hold her against him. Let him take her out of here and back to his bed—back to where it was easy and sweet, and all she had to think about was the way his hands felt on her skin as he touched her.

But she couldn’t. She couldn’t now, and she wouldn’t be able to again. All of her assorted thoughts over the last few hours had culminated to the same decision. She had to break it off with Owen. Like a Band-Aid—rip it off quickly—knowing it would hurt like hell but she’d eventually heal.

Taking a deep breath, she willed her feet to move. To face him and tell him it was over. She had to do it now. Before she lost her nerve.

Chapter Fifteen

Owen read the same sentence for the third time, trying to concentrate on the article instead of worrying about Gabby and what was happening with her brother.

A movement caught his eye, and he looked up to see Gabby standing in the doorway of the waiting room.

She didn’t look happy. She looked sad, and his heart broke for her.

Oh shit.
What if something had happened with her brother? What if Justin was in worse shape than they’d originally thought?

He was pretty beat up when they’d brought him in, but Owen had seen guys in worse shape that turned out okay. He stood and crossed the room to Gabby, holding out his arms as he approached her.

But instead of stepping into the circle of his arms, she crossed her arms around her middle, hugging herself, as she looked up at him with tears in her eyes.

“Hey, what’s going on? Did something happen with Justin? Is he okay?”

She nodded. “Yeah, he’ll be all right. The doctor came in and gave him a few stitches. They think he broke a couple of ribs and probably has a concussion. They want to keep him here overnight. Just to keep an eye on him.”

Relief washed over him followed by a sinking feeling of dread. If her brother was okay, then the reason she looked so sad had to be because of him.
Shit
. He’d known this was coming.

Well, he didn’t really know. He’d hoped not. Had hoped that Gabby was different, that she saw through all of his bullshit and saw the real him and wanted to stick it out anyway.

But maybe she did see the real him—saw his flaws and failings—and they were too much for her to handle. She’d always looked at him like he was a bit of a hero in her eyes. Had made him feel like he was a better man. Like he was enough. More.

But not now. That look of affection and tenderness was gone, replaced by a dull gaze of pain and sadness.

He waited, afraid to speak, knowing what she was going to say before she even opened her mouth. Waited for the other shoe to drop, the “I’m over you” shoe.

She sighed. Here it came. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”

Thunk. There it was. Shoe dropped. Right smack in the middle of his heart.

“Gabby, listen—”

She held up her hand. “No, I can’t. This is hard enough for me as it is.” She gazed up into his eyes, giving him a look so filled with sadness that it tore at his already bruised and broken heart. “I thought I could handle all of this, but I can’t. I tried. The fame, the notoriety, the press—I thought I was doing okay—even the haters. I was handling it all, but I can’t do the violence. It’s too much. That fight tonight was too much. I’ve been dealing with it all of my life, and I just can’t do it.”

“Gabby, I would never hurt you.”

“You already have. This whole thing is hurting me. Maybe some women—the ones you’re used to dating—get off on all this violence and drama, but I don’t. I want a simple life. A peaceful life. Not one filled with anger and aggression.”

He ran a hand over his head and let out a sigh. “Geez, cut me a little slack here. I’m sorry about getting in that fight tonight. But that guy raised a hand to you, and I couldn’t stand for that. I wasn’t going to let him hurt you or your brother. What did you expect me to do?”

“I expected you to walk away. I begged you to let it go. But you chose to fight. You made the decision to fight instead of walk away.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He reached out for her, but she shrank back against the wall of the waiting room. And that about killed him. That motion of her shrinking away from him snapped his battered heart in two.

“I just want something different. I want to feel like I am more important than the fight. That I matter more than the anger. That when it comes down to it, you put me first. And I don’t think you can do that. And I don’t think I can handle it if you don’t. I thought you were different. I wanted you to be different. ”

She looked up at him then, tears filling her eyes. But beneath the tears, he saw it. Saw the disappointment. And that was an expression he knew all too well.

He’d been a screw-up all of his life. He was used to letting people down.

She didn’t want a fight. Fine. He wouldn’t put up a fight.

It didn’t matter how many weights he could lift or how strong he was, he didn’t have the strength to face seeing himself as a failure in her eyes. Not again.

Defeated, he looked at her once more and nodded in despair. He wanted to touch her, to run his hand down her cheek, to hold her against him once more, to inhale her sweet vanilla scent, but he couldn’t. Couldn’t risk seeing her flinch if he reached for her again.

Instead, he turned and walked away.

***

The sun had barely come up as Gabby pulled up in front of her apartment a few hours later. Justin had been asleep, and she’d told the nurse she was going to go home for a few hours.

She needed to shower and change clothes and check on Estelle. It didn’t matter that her world had fallen apart as she’d watched Owen walk away, she still had a business to run, orders to fill, and customers to take care of.

Slumping forward onto the steering wheel, a lump of pain lodged in her throat, she wanted to cry—to scream—to throw something, anything. Anything to make this hurt go away.

Instead, she took a deep breath and got out of the car.

She walked up the stairs to her apartment. She put one foot in front of the other, went through the motions of unlocking the door, letting the dog out, shedding her clothes and taking a shower.

She only lost it once, just for a minute. In the shower, with the hot water beating down on her head, she let herself cry—let herself sob—let the heartache that had been building in her chest out. For just a minute.

Then she finished her shower and put on mascara and dried her hair and brushed her teeth. Her body knew the steps, knew the motions of getting her ready for the day. Mindlessly, she pulled on her clothes and poured some food in the dog’s bowl.

Holding it together, she made her way down to the bakery and spent the next few hours working with Estelle to complete the orders and prepare her staff for the day. Estelle knew her well enough to know something was wrong, but she was faking it the best she could.

She told the staff about Justin, and Leah agreed to make the deliveries that afternoon so Gabby could get back to the hospital. She couldn’t bring herself to tell them about Owen—to admit that they were through—instead she let them assume her gloomy mood was due to Justin’s incident.

The bakery was busy, and the constant work kept her mind occupied as she worked to keep up with the increase in business and get the new orders ready for delivery.

Leah poked her head into the kitchen as Gabby was putting the finishing touches on the last delivery order. “Someone’s here to see you, Gabby.”

Her heart lurched—hoping it was Owen—hoping he was here to tell her it had all been a mistake. “Who is it?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen him before. I got him some coffee and a cupcake. He’s sitting at the front table by the window.”

Hmm. Well, that took out the possibility of it being Owen. Gabby washed her hands and dried them on her apron.

She stepped into the front of the bakery and crossed to the front table. The man sitting there was probably in his mid-fifties. His brown hair was thinning, and he was dressed nicely in pressed khakis, a white collared shirt, and a red and blue jacket that had a Colorado Summit patch embroidered across the front.

He stood as Gabby approached, wiping the frosting from the corner of his mouth with a napkin before holding out his hand. “Hi, you must be Gabby. I’ve heard a lot about you. And these cupcakes really are as amazing as I’ve heard. My name is Harvey Skaggs. I’m in charge of publicity for the Summit.” He motioned for her to sit. “Sorry to just drop in on you like this. I was hoping you would have a minute to talk.”

Why in the world would the publicist of a professional hockey team want to talk to her? A sudden sense of fear filled her. “Is Owen okay?”

“I’m not sure,” he said, then backpedaled as he must have seen the stricken look on her face. “I mean he’s not hurt or anything. It’s nothing like that. But he sure doesn’t seem okay. Did you two have a fight?”

That was the million-dollar question wasn’t it?

There had been a fight, had been several, but not necessarily with her and Owen. It hadn’t felt like they had a fight at all. Instead, it had felt like she had completely broken his spirit, and he’d just walked away.

Or maybe he hadn’t been broken at all. Maybe he’d just felt like she wasn’t worth the hassle. Wasn’t worth fighting for.

He was Owen Bannister after all. He had women lined up waiting for his call. Waiting to take her place on his arm, and in his bed. And in his heart.

If she even had a place in his heart. Maybe that place hadn’t even been hers to begin with. It didn’t matter now. And it was probably better this way.

She swallowed at the lump of emotion in her throat. “We didn’t really have a fight. We’re just not really seeing each other anymore.”

Harvey picked up the last remnant of frosting on his plate and popped it into his mouth. “That’s what I was afraid of. And to be honest, that’s going to be a problem for me. I need you right now, Gabby. In fact, the whole team needs you. Well, they need Owen, and he evidently needs you.”

Why would the team need her? And she was fairly certain Owen didn’t need her at all. What was this guy talking about?

“I don’t know what you mean. Why would the team need me?”

He sighed. “Look, I’m sure you know the team has had some setbacks lately, and a lot of that has to do with the Bannister brothers, in particular Owen. He’s had a lot of bad press lately and the fans aren’t happy about Bane getting traded to another team. It’s not his fault, but a lot of the blame is falling on Owen, and he’s not helping himself with some of the dumb stunts he’s pulled lately. Don’t get me wrong, I think Owen’s a good guy, but he can’t seem to catch a break. That is, until he met you.”

“Me? What do I have to do with anything?”

“Are you kidding? You’ve been the first good thing that’s happened in that guy’s life in a long time. That cupcake-selling bit that hit Twitter was the best press he could have ever asked for. That’s why I got you all those tickets to that fancy charity ball. You’re great for his image. And you were a hit at the ball, by the way.”

“I’m good for his image?” She blinked, stunned. “Wait. Did you say
you
got us those tickets to the Christmas ball? Why?”

“I just told you. Being seen with you is good PR. You can give the guy a little credit—he didn’t originally want to get you involved—but I convinced him that it would be good for everybody.”

He didn’t originally want to get her involved? Did she hear that right?

So, he hadn’t even
wanted
to take her to the ball? It had been his publicist’s idea? What about all that business of needing her help with picking out the toys for the kids? Had that all just been a set-up to garner more good press for him?

Or maybe he truly
was
thinking of her and hadn’t wanted her to get involved in the ploy for publicity. Once Harvey told him he had to go, maybe he really did need her help picking out the gifts. He could have really needed her for that.

This entire thing was making her head hurt. She was confused and frustrated and didn’t know what to make of this whole business. “I don’t know what you want me to say here, Mr. Skaggs. Frankly, this whole thing pisses me off and sure doesn’t incline me to want to do anything that’s going to help you or Owen.”

“Call me Harvey. And come on, Gabby. Don’t get all upset. You’re a grown-up. This has obviously been a mutually beneficial arrangement for both of you. Look around.” He gestured to the full bakery. “You can’t deny that your association with Owen has been good for you, too.”

He had a point. Her business had picked up, and she’d had tons of orders for the Colorado Summit-inspired Hat Trick cupcake. But she’d seen that as a happy by-product of dating Owen—she hadn’t
used
him to better her image or her business.

Anger and frustration churned inside of her. Had he really even cared about her at all? Or had she just been what he needed to help improve his terrible image?

She didn’t know what to say. Or how to feel. Besides angry. But anger didn’t help. She sighed. “So, what do you need me for?”

“I need you to keep seeing Owen. And to keep
being seen
with him. Just go on a few public dates and show up for the games. That was great last night having you sitting behind the glass wearing his jersey. And don’t worry, I can get you game tickets for free.”

“Free tickets to the game? That’s what you think I’m worried about?” She shook her head in disgust. “Actually, free tickets seems pretty cheap. If you’re going to pimp me out as his date, maybe I should be upping my asking price. How about a car or some new clothes?”

Harvey eyed her suspiciously. “Is that what it’s going to take? I can see what I have in my budget.”

“No, that’s not what it’s going to take. Geez, I was being sarcastic. Trying to make a point that I’m not interested in being bought or being paid to date your player.”