Offside (54 page)

When she opened the door, it was like . . . he couldn’t find the words. Damn, he wanted her. But it wasn’t mindless lust like what his talk with Carter made him feel. He wanted to step inside, slam the door in Carter’s face, and pull her into his arms. Kiss her in a way that might express all the things he couldn’t say. Long and slow, like he’d never let her go.

I don’t have to let her go. If I don’t fuck this up, I’ll have her tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that . . .

Or would he? It still made him a little nervous because, if she could take off on Zach, what reason would she have to see this through with Scott involved?

“Hey!” Her tone was bright, but something in her eyes made him feel like she could see his every thought branded right on his forehead. She pressed her lips together, then seemed to come to some kind of conclusion as she waved him and Carter inside, laughing when they whispered their greetings. “You don’t have to worry about waking up Casey. She’s not here—Dean’s mother picked her up earlier since she can’t come tomorrow. She’s bringing Casey to Dean’s so I can decorate tonight.” Her eyes were wide as she looked over the present. “That’s quite the gift. Wow. Dean pulled off the purple Cobra paper! We’ve both been so busy with work, I wasn’t sure he could!”

“Yeah, not much that man can’t do,” Scott said as he and Carter carried the gift into the living room.

“Would you boys like a drink? Coffee? Soda?”

Carter asked for a soda, then made himself comfortable on an armchair as Scott hovered by the large, wrapped package. He started wondering if the stain he’d used was too dark. Or if the thing was too big.

What if Becky hates it? Or Casey does?

Becky put her hands on her hips, shaking her head. “Something’s bothering you, Scott. What is it?”

Scott shrugged, shuffling his feet and staring at the floor. “Just . . . could you take a look at the gift? I want to make sure it’s okay.”

“But it’s wrapped so nicely.”

“Yeah, but . . .” Scott ran his tongue across his teeth and glanced over at Carter. Who just sat back in the chair and smirked. Helpful bastard that he was. Scott knelt by the gift. “The paper won’t rip much if we’re careful.”

He’d wanted the gift to be a surprise for Becky and Casey, but why disappoint them both? If Becky didn’t like it, he might have time to get Casey something else.

Becky bit her bottom lip, her eyes seeming a little sad. But she simply nodded.

They’d need more tape to wrap it up again, but he managed not to ruin the paper. He smoothed the wrapping out over the floor, taking a deep breath before glancing up at Becky. Then he cursed and shot to his feet.

She was crying.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to . . .” He swallowed, holding out his arms, relieved when she stepped up to him and leaned against his chest. “It’s okay. I’ll get rid of it. I just thought—”

“Get rid of it?” Becky let out a shocked laugh. “Please tell me you’re joking!” She eased away from him, dropping to her knees in front of the maple toy box, tracing one of the unicorns he’d carved into the lid with a fingertip. “She’s going to love this. How did you . . . you did this, Scott? For my baby?”

“Yeah.”
Is that really so hard to believe?
“I told you; I think she’s awesome.”

Shaking her head, Becky continued to examine the toy box, running her hands over the wood he’d sanded so carefully, checking the special hinge he’d gotten so the lid wouldn’t slam shut. Then she went back to staring at the carved unicorns.

“I don’t know what to say.” She shot to her feet and threw herself at him, practically knocking him off his feet as she hugged him. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

He rubbed her back and kissed her hair. “So it’s good?”

“It’s better than—” Becky laughed and playfully slapped his chest. “It’s amazing! What happened to that ego, Mr. Demyan? You have no problem showing it for the press.”

“I don’t care what
they
think of me,” Scott said.

“Ah . . .” Becky gave Carter a pointed look. “Thank you for helping Scott bring that in, Luke. Are you finished your drink?”

Carter frowned and glanced at his empty glass. “Yeah, but—”

“It’s been nice seeing you. Give Jami a kiss for me.” Becky took the glass from Carter.

“Becky, Landon won’t—”

“Lucas Isaiah Carter, don’t you
dare
go there.”

“Hey!” Carter scowled. “Only my mom gets to call me that.”

“And she probably does it when you’re being a pain in the butt. Landon has no say in this. And you can tell him I said so.”

“Really?” Carter stood and folded his arms over his chest. “You really think that would be a good idea with all that’s going on?”

Becky took a long, deep inhale, shaking her head. “Maybe not. Don’t tell Landon. I will when the time is right. But
that
doesn’t change what I’m going to do with my life.”

“Fine.” Carter rolled his eyes and headed for the door. “It’s Demyan’s funeral.”

After Carter left, Scott distracted himself meticulously rewrapping Casey’s gift. Becky didn’t say anything for a long time, simply went through the two bags of decorations, looking up at him once in a while as though she wanted to speak. The silence was getting weird. Almost like they were strangers.

He didn’t like it.

So he went over to the table and picked up one of the rolled up streamers. “Purple? I thought Casey’s favorite color was pink?”

“It’s her
second
favorite color now,” Becky said with a light laugh. “She’s been going back and forth for years.”

“Ah . . . so her room . . .” His brow furrowed. “If you want, I don’t mind helping paint it again. Unless that’s something you and Zach—”

“She
loves
her room. But I’m not finished painting the basement if you want to help.”

“Sure.” He rubbed the back of his neck and held up the streamers. “Want me to start hanging these?”

“Soon.” Becky stood, holding on to a banner she’d just taken out of the package. She brushed by him, leaving sparks on his skin with the brief contact. “Can you help me with this first?”

“Okay.” Scott went to get a chair from the kitchen, inhaling and exhaling slow, even breaths, trying to stick to the task at hand. He returned to the living room, stood on the chair and taking thumbtacks from Becky to pin the banner on one wall. They continued for a bit, Becky asking him about training camp, telling him about her job. Then how well Casey was fitting in at school. He found himself more interested in the conversation when Becky complained about how a teacher had already called her to recommend she encourage Casey to find another interest besides hockey.

“If Casey were a boy, I doubt anyone would have a word to say about it. I’d rather her be interested in hockey than Pokémon or Skylanders or . . .” Becky gave him a sharp look when he chuckled. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. I just wouldn’t want to be that teacher.” He grinned as he stepped off the chair, done with the last of the streamers. “Is Casey good with everything else? Reading? Math?”

“Yes. And she speaks two languages fluently. I think the teacher just needed something to complain about because Casey’s ahead of her level in everything. It’s not that she’s not making friends—just most of them are boys.”

“She doesn’t seem like a tomboy.”

“She’s not . . . really. She loves dressing up, but only one or two other little girls are interested in hockey. Casey takes offense to anyone not knowing who ‘Landon Bower’ is.” A soft smile on her lips, Becky glanced over to a large photo of her brother and Casey on the mantle. Bower was in uniform and Casey was about three, sitting on his knee and beaming for the camera. “He’s her hero. And all the most important men in her life have been part of the game. Her father hates it, but . . . sometimes I wonder if that doesn’t make her love it more. They aren’t close.”

“He’s an idiot.” Scott paused, then cleared his throat. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. It was one thing for Becky to say things about her kid’s father. It was different for him to do it. “I mean—”

“It’s all right.” She put her hand on his arm. His heart stuttered as she peered up at him, something vulnerable in her eyes. “As long as you don’t say that in front of her . . . it’s just . . . sometimes I wonder why he can’t be a better father to her. She deserves so much more.”

“So do you.” That didn’t make any sense. He swallowed as she shifted closer to him. Fuck, her soft warmth felt damn good against his hard chest.
Cool it, Demyan.
“I mean, you deserved better from the man you married.”

“I knew what you meant.” She met his eyes. Pressed her hand to his cheek. Her hot gaze was a lick of flames straight from the center of his chest to the tip of his dick. “Scott . . . I won’t have what I have with Zach with you. But I can’t take control and—”

So not a problem.
He slammed his lips to hers, groaning against her lips, lifting her up against the wall. She tore at his shirt even as he lifted hers over her head. Both ended up tangled together on the floor. He hissed in a breath as he kissed her throat, and her nails dug into his shoulders. He had her pants undone. Bent to pull them off. Straightened, claiming her lips as she worked on his belt.

His dick pulsed pure heat as her fingers wrapped around it. Raw lust clawed at him as he brought her up again. Her hand left him and her arms wrapped around his neck. He held her hips with one arm as he grinded against her.

“Condom.” She gasped, shoving at him with one hand, holding him against her with her arm looped around the back of his neck. “My purse.”

When did he
ever
forget a condom? Hell, thankfully she had some, because he hadn’t even put one in his wallet. He put her down and tripped over their clothes, halfway across the room before he realized he had no idea where her purse was. And to top it off, there was
no way
he was going through a woman’s purse.

Becky found her purse before he had to worry about invading her privacy. She dropped to her knees in front of him, then rolled on the condom. When her lips slid over him, he buried his hands in her hair. Not moving. Hardly breathing. This was Becky.
His
Becky.

All the times he’d come on to her, all the times he’d pushed for some cheap, torrid affair between them—
fuck
, he’s was glad she’d shot him down each and every time. Because it wouldn’t have been like this. The way she gazed up at him as she took him in deep brought more than unbelievable pleasure. It pierced his heart, injecting his love for her straight into his blood until he could feel it flowing through his veins, thick and pure. That love had been there from the first time he’d laid eyes on her, but he’d been too messed up to see it for what it was. And he’d almost ruined it.

Being with a woman almost always came with the risk of him seeing . . . someone else. No matter what they did, flashes of the past would sear the inside of his skull, burning straight into his brain if he didn’t numb it with about a dozen shots first. But he was sober now. Sober and all he saw, all he felt, was Becky.

The second he closed his eyes, the second he gave into the pleasure—he couldn’t see her. All he could feel was lips around his cock. The sensation was too clear. He forced his eyes open, gulping against the strained sound coming from his throat. Becky. He pulled her to her feet, staring at her as he lifted her up against the wall. He held her gaze as he slid into her body.

She gasped, her legs wrapped around his waist, pressing her eyes shut as she took him in deeper.

“Look at me, Becky.” He kissed her, thrusting in, whispering against her parted lips as her eyes met his, “Becky. Becky.”

Her fingers dug into the back of his neck. She bit his bottom lip hard, panting, never looking away from him. “That’s right. Becky. I’ve got you, Scott. Ah! God! I’ve got you!” She whimpered as he hammered into her, dragging her nails across his shoulders. “Ah!”

She undulated around him, screaming, gasping into his mouth. He tried to hold back a little longer, but she clenched down hard and pleasure erupted, numbing his brain, so fierce and abrupt his mind never had a chance to go anywhere else. He leaned into her, fighting to hold her up as a merciless, fiery fist gripped the base of his spine, blazing up and around his cock, spreading along his muscles until the effort to stand had him shaking.

Their bodies were both slick with sweat as he gently pulled out and set her on her feet. He removed the condom and went to the kitchen to toss it in the trash. When he got back to the living room, she was gathering all their clothes. He watched her for a beat before laughing and sweeping her up into his arms. He managed to grab her purse before he headed up the stairs.

And he was halfway up before she made a shocked sound of protest.

“Hush, babe.” He strode up the last few steps, then kissed her until she didn’t seem like she much wanted to talk anymore. “We’re not done yet. Not even close.”

* * * *

The sweetest, softest kisses eased her awake, making her smile sleepily and let out a contented sigh as the scent of coffee greeted her. She laughed as weight pinned her legs and scruffy cheeks rubbed between her breasts.

“Scott.” She tipped her head back as he drew a nipple into his mouth. “Mmm . . .”
Feels so good . . . why do I have to stop him again?
She slit her eyes open and glanced at the clock on the nightstand. 10:15 a.m. She nudged Scott’s shoulder, quickly sitting up. “I slept in. Damn it! I’ve got to get everything ready!”

Scott made a face, looked like he might protest for a minute, then nodded, handing her one of the cups of coffee he’d left by the clock. “Drink your coffee first. What time is everyone supposed to be here?”

“My brother and a few other people are coming early for last-minute things. Ten thirty? Eleven?” She groaned as the doorbell sounded. “Now?”

“Ah . . .” Scott went still at the sound of the door opening downstairs. “Who has your key?”

“Landon, but don’t worry, I’ll—”

“Becky! Where do you want the cake?” Landon called out.