Jase (27 page)

“No one deserves this more than you do, Jase,” he said, putting a ‘C’ patch in Jase’s hand.

He looked up,
stunned,
and frantically tried to hand it back. “No, no.
Nuh-uh
. I’m not no captain. No, no. That’s your job, man.” Frustrated, because Lee wouldn’t accept the patch, he looked over at Coach, only to find an amused smile on the man’s face.

“Seriously, I’m not captain material, eh? I’m the comedian; I know what I am. That’s my job, to keep the spirits up, eh? Not lead and inspire, that’s your job, Lee. Your name even fits, Lee…
lead
, see? Not me. No, no, no.” He was nearly panicking, trying to get the man to take the patch out of his hand.

“
Co
-Captain,” Lee said, clapping a hand on Jase’s shoulder. “My new Co-Captain. You’ll be
okay
. You thinking you don’t deserve it
only
reinforces my belief that you do.”

Jase stood still, looking down at the patch in his hand. Next game, it would be sewn to his jersey and he would have a slightly different position to fill, still encouraging his teammates, but with less humor, a more serious role. Nodding, he lifted his eyes to look around the room, seeing the smiles on the faces of his team, hearing the tapping of their stick butts and palms against the floor mats and walls. His team.
When did the Tridents become my team?
he
wondered with a grin. “You fuckers don’t know what you’ve unleashed upon the world. Giant lizard
stompin’
on
a city got nothing on Jase Spencer, Co-Captain.” He made roaring noises, flapping his arms around, and the room erupted into laughter.

Lee slapped him on the back again and the room filled with chatter about the game, dissecting the plays that had garnered them goals, as well as the ones that stole them. His team.

***

“Too bad, man,” Mason said, turning to put his elbows on the bar behind him. “You played a hell of a game, though. That was
a nice
shot you put in during the shootout.”

“Too little, too late. Was a good,
tight
game,” he said, taking a sip of his beer. “Hard loss. That probably killed playoffs for us.”

“Ouch.” Mason winced. “That sting a little? Coming off the win last year?”

“Hell yeah, it stings,” he acknowledged. “This move’s been good for me, though. I wouldn’t change it up. I’ve done all right here, and
they’re
a talented team; we took too long to gel earlier in the season. If I play for them next year, I think we’ll do well.” In the mirror, he saw Daniel and Gary walking up behind him. “There’s no shame in losing to the defending champions, even if Daniel Rupert is their captain.”

“Hey, watch it,” Daniel said, slapping Jase’s shoulder.

“Oh, hey, Daniel. Didn’t see you standing there,” he deadpanned and then laughed. “
Good win
, man. Your team is tight as ever.”

“Tridents aren’t pushovers. You made us work for every goal.” Daniel ordered
a beer
with a flick of his fingers. “Was a good game.”

Jase looked around. “I don’t see your
lovely
wife. Did she come with?”

“Naw, she wanted to stay closer to home. She’s only got a couple more weeks before she’s due, and travel is hard on her, even for short distances.” He smiled, and in that simple expression, Jase could clearly see the man’s love for Mica. Cutting his eyes over to Mason, he was surprised to see happiness on his face,
too,
as he watched and listened to Daniel. He never understood the dynamic in that kind of
triad
relationship, where two men loved the same woman, but one willingly stepped aside.

Shaking his head, he looked over at Daniel with a grin. “Guess what you’re looking at?”

With a snort, Daniel tipped his head back. “No idea, idiot. With you, so many different answers immediately come to mind. Why don’t you tell me what I’m looking at?”

“Tridents’ new co-captain, that’s what,” he said proudly, and was gratified to see both Daniel and Mason smile. “It’s about time someone appreciated me,” he laughed.

“Congrats, Jase.” Daniel shook
his
hand. “That’s awesome. Lee’s a good guy; you can learn a lot from him.”

Later, standing at the bar, he was watching Mason sitting across the room. The man had been in his element all night, chatting with all the Rebels in the house as well as fielding conversations with members
of
other clubs who approached him. Jase saw at least three other patches in the bar, and he admired Mason’s
natural
confidence when confronted by someone who could well be a rival.

Catching his eye, Mason stood and walked over to him, motioning to the barkeep for another beer. They stood in companionable silence for a few minutes, watching the ebb and flow of the crowd around the tables and bar. Mason said abruptly, “You bought Winger’s bike.”

Not quite a question, but it deserved a response, so Jase said, “Yeah. Didn’t seem right letting it go to a stranger.”

“You didn’t know Winger though, did you?” Mason looked at him, taking a long drink from his beer.

“No. To me, it’s DeeDee’s bike, man.” He sighed.

Mason nodded, his lips thinning at something. “I can see that. Can see why it would bother you, too.” He
set
his beer down, crossing his arms over his chest. “What happened there? I thought
y’all
were good.”

“I did too,” he responded, sipping from his mug. “I don’t know what happened, to be honest. When everything went down with Ruby, she was leaning on me, and it seemed like she needed me. We fit. Then it was as if she dropped a brick wall down between us. I had a three-day road trip for away games, and by the time I got back, she had fallen off the face of the earth. A week later, she sent Slate to tell me to stop trying to contact her.”

He looked over at Mason. “She came to one game, but then bolted before we could do much more than say hello.
As
I said, I don’t…I don’t know what happened.”

Mason sighed, uncrossing and re-crossing his arms. “I think I do, but I’ll have to talk to Maggie, Bear’s mom, to know for sure.” He looked at Jase, shaking his head. “You still sure she’s what you want, man?”

“She’s all I see, Mason,” he answered
simply,
and Mason nodded his head once, decisively.

***

“Jase,” Slate’s voice came through the phone, “you have plans tonight?”

“Nope, not as far as I know right now,” he responded, stirring the corn chowder simmering on the stovetop. It had been an easy week; he only had one game, so he’d been able to do some shopping today and finally had supplies to cook with again. “Planned to head to Chicago tomorrow and see Daniel’s baby, but that’s not set in stone.
Whatcha
need?”

“You still have your truck, right?” Slate’s question was clear, but there was so much noise in the background he wasn’t sure the man could hear him.

“Yeah, still have the truck.
Whatcha
need?” Repeating his question, he reached into the cabinets, pulling down a bowl and ladling out a measure of the chowder for his dinner.

“DeeDee is moving. I’d like your help to get things shifted over to her new condo.”

Before Slate could even finish speaking, Jase was talking
over
him, agreeing. “You
betcha
. Tell me where. I’ll be there.” He took a shaky breath, turning off the stovetop and moving the pot to one side. “I’ll be there, man. Thanks.”

“Meet us at her apartment in twenty. She’s over at the new place right now. We can get a load ready and haul it over.” He paused and said, “Jase, man, she doesn’t know about this.”

“Okay. It
's all right,
” he babbled. “Apartment, got it. Best behavior, on it. I’ll be there,” he repeated and grinned. “I’m all over this, Slate. I’m on it.” Hanging up, he left the bowl and pot cooling on the stovetop and walked briskly to his bedroom, dressed in record time, and headed into the parking lot.
He jumped into his truck and sat for a moment, trying to gather his wits before seeing her.

Moving slowly, she turned in a circle, admiring the pristine walls of her new condo. No more renting for her, she had finally made the leap and bought a home. A couple of hours ago, the local store had delivered the brand new furniture she purchased. None of it was fancy, but she was proud of what she had accomplished.

She finished putting linens on the new bed and had walked
to
the living area to consider placement of the couch and chair, when the apartment filled with the chatter of voices as her front door opened. DeeDee turned to face her helpers with a smile that quickly faded when she saw the man walking through the
door
behind them. Jase Spencer was trailing behind Slate, carrying a box labeled ‘Bedroom’.

A roundly pregnant Ruby walked up to her with a commiserating look on her face, and without speaking, patted DeeDee on the shoulder as she passed through into the kitchen. Slate had the good sense not to look at her as he carried his own carton, following Ruby.

Jase paused in the living room and stared at her. She couldn’t tell anything from the expression he wore; his face was uncharacteristically hard to read. His gaze drifted down then paused with a slight frown, and she realized she was reflexively wringing her hands in the hem of her shirt.

She hadn’t seen him up close since the night of his injury. Every day, she missed him so
terribly,
and seeing him here now…
in
her new home, it was unreal. Taking a deep breath and trying to pull together her fleeing composure, she dropped her hands to her sides and lifted her chin, giving him a wide, genuine smile. “Jase,” she said, unable to keep the pleasure from her voice, “it’s good to see you.” Moving forward, she held out her hands. “I can take that. Thank you for bringing it inside.”

He shifted sideways, keeping the box out of reach. “I got it, DeeDee. Just show me where to set it. I have another half-dozen in the truck labeled the same.” He gave her that half-smile she loved, crooked and rueful. “It’s good to see you, too.
Really good
. You look
good
. And it’s good…to see you. Off the charts—”

Snapping his mouth shut, he first looked at her and then down the hallway towards the bedrooms. Swallowing hard, he flashed that damn smile again and asked, “Show me?”

Walking up the hallway, she was acutely aware of Jase behind her. It was as if there
were
a scalding heat rolling off the man, winding its way around her, slipping underneath her clothes to cover her skin. It nearly felt as if he were touching her, caressing her…
stealing
her breath. She opened the master bedroom door and stepped inside, mutely pointing across the room to the far wall.

When he walked around her, she caught a hint of the woodsy scent from his body wash mixed with pure, raw male. He always smelled so good. When they were together and he stayed over, he left his scent on her pillows. Then, even when he had to go out of town, she would sleep better for days, surrounded by the smell of him in her bed.

“Hey,” he said, jerking her from her daydream, and she realized she had been in a daze, staring at him. Had to have been, because he put the box where she directed and was now standing in front of her. Sad lines framed his eyes and she dropped her gaze, not wanting to see that look on his face.

Reaching out, he tipped her chin up with his fingertips and ran his thumb gently across her lips. “Hey,” he repeated quietly, and she watched as his mouth
quirked
up into that half-smile again. Slipping his fingers along her jawline, he traced the edges until he cupped her face.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she turned her head and pressed her cheek into the palm of his hand, unable to stop herself from seeking the warmth and feel of his caress. She missed that so much, the way he
never had been
able to keep his hands off her, the way he could make her feel with just a touch.

The tip of his thumb dragged her bottom lip down, and her lips pursed with a breathless gasp. He moved and she opened her eyes to find him leaning closer, lips slightly parted, his expression begging permission.

Closing her eyes again, she met him halfway, rising on her toes and pressing her lips against his in a questing, exploring kiss. They remained like that for seconds, neither of them asking or demanding more, just their lips working gently together. He pulled away, capturing her bottom lip between his and she opened her mouth, the tip of her tongue sweeping along his lips as he released her.

Reaching up, she cupped her hand over his where it still rested on her face and tilted her head, silently encouraging him to kiss her again. When he didn’t, she opened her eyes to find his dark gaze slowly scanning her face, his expression remote and shuttered.
Oh
, she thought sadly, sighing and settling back onto the heels of her feet.
He gets it. He finally gets why I’m wrong for him. All it took was him seeing me again for it to sink in
.

She moved to step away and his eyes flared wide, his hand moving to cup the back of her neck, holding her in place. He groaned then, pulling her into him even as he pushed her against the wall, his mouth crashing onto hers as he flattened her against the hard surface. She fisted her hands, trying to deny the need for contact. She couldn’t touch him; it would only make things
more difficult
when he pulled
away,
because she knew once she started
touching
him, she wouldn’t be able to stop.

The kiss went on for a long time, his hands roaming everywhere, as if he were relearning the feel of her. They would break apart, panting for
breath,
and then dive back into each other, tongues sliding and dueling. His hands were restlessly seeking and stroking her body, lifting and caressing her breasts,
stroking
down and over her ass. He buried his fingers in her hair, tugging to tilt her head for better access. She allowed every touch, shifting, unresisting as his hands moved her, his body pressing against her, and she welcomed the burning heat he brought to her skin.