Interference (2 page)

D
aire Raiin
. Raiin, storm god of the NHL, here I come. But not yet. I had one more stop to make, I still had a home here, it had been in my family for a couple of generations. A sweet little house with a lovely southern porch. It was situated on a little back street, I pulled into the driveway and dug the key out of my purse.

Yet another artifact of my life here, I hadn't been able to let the place go. I stood for a moment and looked it over. Yellow and white, it was still bright and happy looking in spite of the fact that it was empty.

Unlocking the front door, I pushed it gently inward and glanced around. I always half expected my parents to be there, sitting at the kitchen table, dad reading the paper, mom doing the crossword, but the house was empty of course. The beautiful wooden floors were filmed with a light coating of dust, and the furniture was just as I had left it.

Inside it smelled like home, I had grown up here and when mom and dad passed, I inherited the place. Somehow I just couldn't let it go. It was a shame, I thought as I stepped lightly through the hallway, a family should live here. I threw open the kitchen windows then crossed back to the living room windows, to create a cross-breeze. I went back out for my luggage and when I came in I was startled by an unfamiliar sound; the phone was ringing. I really should disconnect that, I thought as I picked up.

"Hey girl, tonight is on!"

"Hey! Why didn't you call my cell?"

"I did, it's dead or silent or something so I thought I'd try the house."

"Weird. Okay, great, I'll meet you at 8:30, at the Tavern."

"Ok, see you at the Tav, don't be late!"

"Me? I'm not the late one, you are, you be on time, who knows what trouble I'll get in if you're late!"

We hung up and I turned to face the house once more. I should call a realtor, but no one should see it all dusty. Cleaning isn't my jam, but today, it couldn't be helped.

By the time I was done my little house smelled cleanly of pine, and I was exhausted.

The last thing I did was take my sheets from the dryer and make up my bed, which was a mistake because I couldn't help but lie down for a few minutes.

The next thing I knew the phone was ringing and I was confused all over again. Oh, right, the house phone, I thought as I stumbled to the kitchen.

"Hello?"

"Savannah?" Daire's voice floated down the line to me, and my stomach clenched with something. Fear? Longing? Desire? All three, definitely some longing. The feelings combined creating butterflies and a warmth that radiated to parts that definitely shouldn't be warmed by his voice.

"How did you know I was here?"

"I guessed. I'm outside, can you open the garage door?"

"Why?"

"I wanna stash my bike in there so no one sees it in your driveway."

"What? No!" I said to a dead line. He had hung up.

Two seconds in and already he was trouble. Against my better judgment, I pushed the garage door button hanging by the back door and heard the door grind up on its tracks. Then I walked to the back door to let him in.

It was late in the afternoon by now, the sun was a fiery ball setting in the western sky, a fitting backdrop to Daire Raiin making his arrival.

Known to his many fans as Raiin, Daire was just as I remembered him. A little older, no less handsome and imposing. He pulled the door open and I glanced at his hands. Huge, they looked like they could palm a man's head. And I knew for a fact they could, I had seen him do it on the ice.

Well over six feet tall, which was quite tall for a hockey player, he was an enforcer, a brawler, and a damn fine player. I had seen him drop his gloves and stick for a fight faster than anyone on the ice, but when he was at home and behind closed doors, those same hands were gentle and firm, and knowing, holding me down and giving me hours of pleasure. No other man had ever come close to the magic he could create. And that was one of the things that made him so bad, at least so bad for me. I felt the familiar warmth pooling between my legs and shushed my libido. This was just a visit I reminded myself as I looked up at his wall of a chest, covered by a waffle weave shirt. I resisted reaching out to touch him. The spark still lives, I thought with a grimace.

"What do you mean you guessed?" I said as he came through the door.

"Someone talked to Ally's husband today, said you were around. I guessed you were here," he said as he leaned down to drop a kiss on my cheek.

I turned to the side so he was kissing air. I seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. I walked to the now gleaming counter, and busied myself making coffee.

"Late in the day for that, isn't it?"

"You know me, it's never too late for coffee." I said, ignoring the fact that my stomach was finally calm and probably didn't need the acid. "Why are you here?" I didn't want to be rude, but I needed to get him out of here.

"Crazy ass fans following me, I'm trying to ditch them," he grinned at me. "Also, I need a lawyer. You're a lawyer still, right?"

He started to talk and I threw up my hands in front of me again. "Halt, just wait until I have a sip of coffee, this pot is old fashioned, it takes a minute. Here," I pulled out a chair, "sit."

He sat and I looked at him in the light, I hadn't seen him in years. The divorce was technically uncontested so it should have been long over, but Raiin hadn't signed the papers any of the times I had sent them to him. It seemed like I'd sent them hundreds of times, but they just went into a black hole, never to return.

He claimed it was bad bookkeeping.

His eyes had slight fine lines at the corners, his hair had perhaps the tiniest, slightest touch of gray, and he still made me weak in the knees. He had been the bad boy I never should have brought home to my parents complete with motorcycle and tattoos and a reputation for fighting his way out of a jam. But I had fallen hard and fast for him.

And for him I guess I was the good, studious solid girl, the one who would drag him onto the straight and narrow. That hadn't happened either. I had done a bit of dragging, but he hadn't exactly gone straight. Although he had behaved just well enough to make the major leagues, and sign a big old contract for millions of dollars. Any normal woman would stick around just for that, but not me. It hadn't taken me long after the wedding to realize I needed a man who could stick it out, be there in a pinch, build a nest. It was easier to do without, than to be disappointed.

It was good to be in his presence again, kind of. Good in that it made me feel good, bad in that I knew it shouldn't.

He was a mountain of a man, all muscle. Solid and meaty and fierce. In a final stroke of impulse and rebellion I had married him right after my college graduation, which I had accelerated by a year. The wedding must have been too much for him though, because we weren't married more than a couple of days before he left and I didn't see him again for weeks after. So, I packed up and left for law school. Making my parents both proud and crazy, not necessarily in that order.

Now that my folks were gone, I was concentrating on being the upstanding citizen they had wanted me to be. My law career was going well, my promotion to assistant magistrate was in the books, and in a few years I would be a judge. Just as they had wanted.

But first I had to get Raiin out of their kitchen, and out of my life.

T
he coffeemaker beeped
and I poured a hot cup of coffee for me, and one for Raiin.

"Thanks, but I don't think so," he said, pushing it away.

"Well, there's no beer here, and you're on the bike so I wouldn't give you one anyway."

"It's good to know you care," he said with an arched brow.

"I just don't want to contribute to your many self-destructive impulses," I said. "Speaking of which, now tell me what you've done that you need a lawyer."

"I told you, I didn't do anything," he said, tapping the rim of his cup with his wedding band. I was stunned to see he was still wearing it and stared at it a bit too long.

"Oh, this? Keeps the puck bunnies at bay," he smiled as he said it and I wanted to whack his shoulder. I kept my hands wrapped around my mug, they were safe there.

"Thanks, I feel much better now," I said and rolled my eyes, "so what happened and why are you hiding in my parent's house?"

"I'm not hiding; I'm hiding my bike."

"Semantics, you and your bike are never apart, so what's the problem here?"

"Well, the bike is one thing, that's because of some crazy women following me around. Like I said, I heard you were in town so I came here to hide … uh, to get the bike under cover and wait them out. The needing a lawyer thing is entirely different."

I sighed and put my head in my hands, "Can't you stay out of trouble?"

"I told you it wasn't me; I didn't even get into trouble."

"I can't help you. Seriously I can't. There's a background investigation to go with my new job. But just for kicks, tell me what happened."

"Well, obviously since, as I said, I didn't do anything, I'm not sure. It started with the game last week, did you see it?"

"Yeah, I saw part of it, quite a show you put on."

He nodded, "Yeah, thanks, it was. It's my job, I skate and I fight, always have. But you know, I'm a little older and a little wiser, last week I pulled out of the fight before it got personal."

"So not like the time you dropped gloves because the other guy’s wife was a runway model and the whole damn team was jealous?"

He laughed and ducked his head, "No, not like that. The Wildcats were in our faces for the whole first period of the game last week. Name calling, checking when the refs weren’t watching, the works. Finally, I had enough. Boomer was in the goal so we knew nothing was getting past him and we just hammered their team, knocked them around whenever we could, exhausted them, shots on the goal were no use. It was fun," he grinned at the memory. "But then after the game things got crazy. There was some damage to the Wildcats bus; I think their driver was injured."

"Tell me the truth, was it something you were involved in?"

"No, not at all," he shook his head, "I'm older and wiser, I told you. Besides, that's kid stuff. I only fight when paid," he smirked. "I wasn't anywhere near it. The thing is, there are reports that I was there. My bike was reported near the scene. But it wasn't, I had my bike at home, and I was in bed."

"Can you prove it?"

"Prove I was home alone in bed? Um, no."

"Maybe you weren't alone?"

He looked me right in the eye, "I was. I was all by myself, I swear."

I sighed, "Just my luck, the one time it would help you don't bring anyone home. So, why would someone want to make out like it was you that did the damage?"

"I don't know, maybe their team was still mad about the game? It gets heated, especially with the younger guys, they don't seem to remember it's a show we're putting on."

"I remember."

"Hey, I wasn't all that bad."

"I didn't say you were," I glanced up at him. "So, what is happening right now? Who's looking for you? The police? Are you going to be arrested? Have you been arrested? Where are we with this? Why are you hiding your bike in my garage?" I stopped asking him questions, but only because I was out of breath.

"Yeah, about that. I've heard they're looking for me. I figured no one would check here, because we're well, you know."

"Divorced, well divorcing, I do know. And about that—I have some papers for you to sign."

"Yeah, I know. But first, I could use your help. I'm not hiding, not at all. But the first rule of combat is to know as much as you can about your enemy. I need to know where the Sheriff stands with this. I have no problem facing it, I didn't do it. And I have no problem facing him, but I want to know first if I'm going in bracelets or if they're going to really look into it."

"Did you hear me during the first part of the conversation? The part where I said I can't help you?"

"Yep, but then you listened, so I figured you didn't mean it," he glanced at me and I tried to make it a point not to meet his eyes, those eyes always get me.

"I really can't help you. I mean it. I'm here for two weeks, I have to clear this place out and sell it, and get back for my job. And have you sign our divorce papers." I pointed a finger at him, "But, and I mean this sincerely, do not talk to him without a lawyer present. Just don't do it. I know you've known him forever, but this is different. It can't be me though, I'm just here to tie up loose ends."

"Is that what I am? A loose end?"

"God, Raiin, give me a break. It's been years." I looked at him, "Why won't you sign the papers?"

He grinned, "Mostly because you want me to."

"You're so annoying. You will sign the papers, before I go back. I'm moving on."

"Right, I've actually heard this before."

"What? I did move on, I moved north, made a life for myself, got a job, got promoted."

"But you're back."

"Just to close things up, honest to God."

"I know, I know, fine. But first can you just …"

"Help you with this? I heard you," I groaned.

He got up to freshen my coffee, and when he leaned over and I looked up, our eyes locked. And just like that, there I was looking into his soul again. It was like falling, every single time. Even after all these years, even though I knew just how unreliable he was, just how much trouble he was, I was captivated. It was like trying to resist gravity. He leaned closer, and gently brushed my lips with his. The electricity was still there, I felt it run down my spine and warm me from the inside out. I leaned forward and he kissed me again, a little harder. I reached up and touched his arm, his bicep was solid and he felt like home.

Suddenly I pulled back. I had to snap out of this. Get a grip. I cleared my throat and leaned away from him. He smiled and turned back to replace the coffee pot on its heated plate.

Shaking my head to clear it I said, "I'll look into it. We should call the Sheriff, ask him what's up."

"Right, well I'll leave that to you. Clay always did have a thing for you, you'll get farther than I will," he winked.