Laces and Lace (Assassins #6) (12 page)

Bundling up tighter in his jacket, he trudged through the cold with his buddy, Jordie Thomas. They were meeting up with some of their teammates for dinner before hitting the town. Karson’s hands shook in his pockets with the thoughts of running into the girl he left behind, but he knew he wouldn’t see her. He never did. Not in the forty-nine times he had been back to Chicago had he seen her gorgeous face, and man, he wished he had. Instead, he had to watch her from afar. On the Internet, stalking her on Facebook, and hearing things through the few mutual friends they had. It was insane, really. When he thought of Chicago, he thought of her. When he was in town, he prayed for some reason he would run into her, which would have him thinking of her the whole time he was here. She flooded his senses, his thoughts, his soul.

She was the one he let go.

And how idiotic that was.

Because there was something about Lacey Martin’s smile that could honestly knock him on his ass, before her eyes would pick him back up and her lips would demolish him. He then would pray that all of it would happen again and again because he loved her. More than anything in existence. She was the “bring home to Ma” kind of girl. She was perfect, beautiful, and stunning. When they were together for those three glorious months, he cherished her like the Stanley Cup. Yeah, it was short, but it was perfect. She was it to him. She was everything.

They had a plan. They were supposed to be together forever, but like all good things, they came to an end. A horrible, painful end. One he hadn’t come back from. There wasn’t a day that passed where he didn’t think of her, wonder where she was and what she was doing.

He doubted she did the same, though.

She probably still wished him to the fiery depths of hell. When people said his name, she probably cringed and regretted every moment she had spent with him. He broke her. Probably worse than the cancer she fought ever did. When he would look at her Facebook and study at the pictures she allowed the world to see, all he saw was fakeness. She wasn’t smiling the way she did when she was with him. She just looked pained.

Or at least he hoped she was.

“What’s up with you?”

Looking over, Karson met Jordie’s dark brown gaze. Despite it not being play-off season, Jordie had a long beard that he was currently twisting around his finger as he eyed Karson. The guy looked like he belonged back home in the backwoods of Colorado with an axe in one hand while wearing a plaid shirt. Looked as if he should be skinning a rabbit with his bare hands instead of murdering guys on the ice. He was the best enforcer on the Assassins, and Karson was glad he was his friend. He was kind of scary.

“Nothing,” Karson lied.

“Jack shit. You always get dumb when we come here. When are you going to tell me why?” he asked, receiving a dark look from Karson. “I know it has to do with that girl, so just tell me.”

Shrugging, he said, “She lives here.”

“Yeah, so? Hasn’t it been twenty years since you’ve seen her? Isn’t it time to get over it?”

Yeah, it was.

“It’s been nine, and I don’t see how this is any of your concern,” Karson said as he reached for the door handle to The Gage.

“Asshole,” JT threw at him, but he ignored it as he looked for their friends. When he spotted his teammates Erik Titov and Phillip Anderson, he made his way toward them, ignoring the hot little hostess who was trying to catch his eye. He wouldn’t have anything to do with her. Not here. If she were in Nashville, it would be a different story, but he didn’t touch anyone in Chicago.

It always worried him that Lacey could find out. Not that she even cared anymore. Even though a little piece of him hoped she would. He knew that was pathetic and disgusting, but he hoped anyway.

Letting out a breath, he shook hands with his friends before dropping into the chair as Erik said, “Man, you sucked today at practice. Better clean that up before the game tomorrow. What’s up with you?”

For shit’s sake.

“I asked the same thing. He’s being a fucking pussy, still caught up on some girl from thirty years ago,” JT said and Karson glared.

“Aren’t you only thirty?” Erik asked with his brow up.

“Yeah, and fuck you, JT. Why am I even your friend?”

“’Cause I am fucking awesome, dude. Duh,” he answered like it was as true as the sky was blue.

Which it wasn’t. JT was kind of an asshole, but everyone still liked him for some odd reason.

“Oh, that Lacey chick, she lives here, doesn’t she?” Phillip asked and Karson rolled his eyes.

“Guys, let’s drop it. I don’t want to talk about it.”

He never did. Not to anyone. Not his mom, his sister, not even his dad. Not that he would ever tell his dad anyway. They were superclose, but they didn’t talk about emotional shit at all. When Karson had come home, broken over Lacey, all his dad did was hand Karson a stick and stand in goal, blocking each shot that he shot until Karson basically collapsed to the ground in tears and exhaustion. Even then, his dad simply patted him on the back before walking away. Karl King didn’t do emotion. But he must have told his mom because Regina King was out there in a second, fussing and fawning over him.

As she held him tight in her arms, all Karson could do was wish that he could do it all over again.

He would have chosen her.

He wouldn’t have given in to her father and allowed him to ruin them. He would have told him to fuck off and prayed that he could give Lacey the life she deserved. He was pretty sure he could have too. He went third in the draft, first round. He didn’t even go into the AHL; he went straight into the pros, playing for the Lightning with a great contract. He loved Tampa; it was great but it wasn’t home, and most of the time he was just lost, trying to mend the pieces of his broken heart.

After playing for six years with them, he was traded to the Assassins, and crazily enough, he felt as if he was finally home. It was weird. He had been with the same group of guys for six years and hadn’t felt as comfortable as he did when he stepped into the Assassins’ locker room. It wasn’t just a team; it was a family. For the last three years, he had played great hockey but also had become part of an extended family. He loved the Assassins, minus JT, but he knew he would give it all up for her.

He once tried to do just that too.

After a year apart, when he knew he was settled and was sure he could take care of her if her cancer came back, he tried to contact her, but that went south quickly. Grady, her brother, threatened to kill him, and her dad changed her phone number, but that didn’t derail him. He was about to go to Chicago to see if he could get her back, but what stopped him was when his coach bumped him down to the fourth line, saying he wasn’t performing the way he should. Karson knew it was all crap, that it was Nate Martin warning him to stay away. And like a coward, he again did what Nate Martin wanted and again chose hockey over Lacey.

At that point, he decided he didn’t deserve her and left her alone, even though it didn’t feel right. He was young and stupid though because now, he would give it all up. Everything. Because what is a life without love?

It’s cold. Lonely. Worthless.

Yeah, he didn’t go without a warm body to keep him entertained, but it wasn’t love. It was a quick act of pleasure, and then they were gone. He tried once to date, but that was a disaster. Every girl he dated, he would compare her to Lacey. And since Lacey was on the highest pedestal ever, no one could amount to her. It was sad, and when Kacey, his sister, joked once that he was never going to get married, he knew she was right. Not unless it was to Lacey.

Which would never happen.

“Karson? You there?”

Karson looked up from where he was staring at the white plate in front of him to meet Phillip’s annoyed gaze. “Sorry, what?”

“The waitress would like to know what you would like?”

Lacey. He’d love to have the chance to love her again.

“A shot of tequila and a beer, please.”

“Whoa, killer, we have a game tomorrow afternoon,” Erik reminded him and Karson nodded.

“Two drinks won’t kill me,” he answered as he leaned back in his chair, his mind flooded with thoughts of Lacey.

It was as if a movie of their whole relationship, their breakup, everything was playing in his head. It was like he was standing there, reliving it, remembering the first time his eyes set on her, sitting up in the stands watching him practice. Or when she would study, drinking a mocha coffee and getting so lost in her books. The first time she showed him her scarred, deflated breasts from the cancer, and all he could do was think how strong and beautiful she was. Making sweet love to her for the first time and then asking her to follow him wherever he went. And then finally, when she broke down in front of him as he told her he couldn’t be with her anymore. He was a liar. A coward. He didn’t deserve her back then, but man, he wished he could do it all over again. He wished he could kiss her lips again, feel the softness and taste the sweetness of them. Feel her in his arms as they molded into one. He just wished he had another chance. Just one. He wouldn’t fuck up a second time.

Maybe he should seek her out, but as soon as that thought came to mind, his chest seized as his breath came out in a whoosh.

Man, he hated this city.

It fucked with him to the fullest.

“I think we lost him again,” Erik said as Karson looked up at the ceiling, pulling in a deep breath.

“Yeah, he’s gone. Idiot,” JT muttered.

The sooner he could get out of this city, the better.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”

Lacey Martin glanced back at her longtime best friend and sister-in-law, Rachel, and shook her head.

“I told you, if you don’t like the pictures, we can nix the idea, but at least let’s try. It will be good for the business.”

Lacey’s brows shot up. “Who thinks that? Because I don’t see how posing in my own lingerie is going to drive sales.”

Rachel set her with a look while the models that Rachel had hired, Carey, Winnie, and Amy, smiled tentatively. Lacey didn’t mind them; she thought they were sweet, but they agreed with Rachel on the photo shoot idea, and she didn’t like that. Not when she was doing everything in her power to nix it. Yes, she understood that it was good marketing to be in magazines, blogs, and all over Pinterest, but couldn’t they hire actual models for this? Why in the world did she and Rachel have to be a part of this?

“Your dad and Grady think it’s a wonderful idea,” she said, but Lacey didn’t believe that at all.

“My father and brother think it would be a good idea for their daughter slash sister and daughter-in-law slash wife to pose in lace solely to get sales?”

She shrugged. “Maybe I left that part out.”

Lacey laughed. “So when the pictures come out and I’m not in a pantsuit, we could have problems from the Martin men?”

“Who cares? This is your company—we do what we want,” Rachel announced and Lacey’s brows shot up again.

“Are you going to say that when we get bitched at?”

“Yes, I am. We look gorgeous, and we are going to rock this photo shoot.”

Lacey could tell Rachel tried to say that with enough conviction to convince her, but it didn’t work. Shaking her head, she glanced at herself in the mirror and grimaced.

“You can see all of my tattoos through this one. We should have gone with the black lace,” she moaned as her shoulders fell.

“You love your tattoos,” she stated, shooting a look at Lacey.

This was true, but still. “I don’t want them showing, though.”

“They are supposed to. I wanted to show as much as I could of each kind of woman. We have the double mastectomy breasts, Carey; the young breasts, Amy; the plus-size breasts, Winnie; the mother breasts, me; and then the reconstructed breasts, you. It’s every stage we offer. It’s our brand.”

For some reason, it annoyed Lacey that Rachel said reconstructed breasts. She didn’t understand why she did that. Why not call them what they are? “You mean fake boobs.”

“Reconstructed,” Rachel reiterated.

“Fake.”

Rachel’s eyes darkened. “Why are you being a bitch today? You were on board with this last week.”

She had been and was even excited about doing the shoot, but then she opened the morning paper today and saw who was playing the Blackhawks tomorrow. Within seconds, Lacey knew that her day and weekend were going to suck. She didn’t want to be here. She wanted to go home and hide, something she had been doing for the last nine years to make sure there was no way she would see
him,
but there wasn’t a chance of that happening today. Not when they had the photo shoot and her brother’s birthday.