On the Surface (In the Zone) (27 page)

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Tim talked to Rachel’s coach and told him what was going on. The man had, to his credit, been appalled to find out the boys had been bullying Rachel right under his nose. Tim didn’t blame him. No matter how involved a coach was, he couldn’t possibly be everywhere at all times. The bullies Tim had known were always careful not to attack if there was a chance they might be caught. Which worked out well when Tim showed them the business end of his fist.

They talked for almost an hour and formulated a plan they hoped would teach the boys a lesson but not demoralize them before their big game. Like he had during his last trip to Chicago, Tim had to call in a favor in order for the plan to work. He looked over the hockey games scheduled within the next few days and saw Seattle was playing Chicago in two days. Hart Griffin, Calder’s brother, was with Seattle. Tim had roomed with Hart back in the early Blackhawk days. Hart was also a very popular player and Tim needed a guy who commanded respect among young boys.

The conversation was a welcome distraction from all of Tim’s troubles.

“Hart. It’s your old roomie, Tim.”

“Hey! How you doing?”

“I’m great,” Tim answered. “I’m getting married.”

“Yeah. Saw your video on YouTube. In fact, I heard Lifetime is making a TV movie about it and they’re trying to get one of the Jonas brothers to play you.”

Tim laughed. “Fuck you, asshole. I heard they’re making the dressing room in Seattle bigger because your ego won’t fit in it anymore.” There was a long pause, then Tim said, “Okay, that was a fail.”

Hart laughed. “Holly, my
mother
can do better than that.”

“Your dog can probably do better than that,” Tim said.

They chuckled some more. “How’s my baby brother doing?” Hart asked.

“Calder? Fine, I think. Haven’t really seen him. He’s doing rehab on the knee. He’s out for the season, as you probably know.”

“Yeah, I did know that, but not much more. You know how it is.”

“Yeah.”

“So what’s up, buddy? I assume you didn’t call just to expose yourself as the lamest trash talker in the league.”

“I need a favor.”

“Shoot.”

Tim summarized what was going on with Rachel. When Hart heard what the boys had done, he responded instantly. “I’m in. Whatever you need me to do, I’m in. I will not stand by and watch a pint-sized pack of misogynists-in-training besmirch our sport. No one deserves to be ostracized just because they’re different.”

Not for the first time in his life, Tim felt grateful for the friends he made playing hockey and how willing they were to go to bat for him. Over seven hundred guys in the league, but it sometimes felt like an extended family.

The boys arrived a half hour ahead of Rachel, as planned. Tim had to stay out of sight. He wasn’t supposed to appear until later, but he stood outside the dressing room and eavesdropped.

“Boys,” Coach Terry said, “I have some great news and some not-so-great news. The great news is that Hart Griffin is in town and he’s going to drop by to wish you luck.”

Tim chuckled as the kids went ape shit over that. With a self-satisfied smirk, Hart breathed on his fingernails and buffed them on his shirt.

When they settled down, Coach Terry continued, “The bad news is that Rachel’s not coming.”

“Aw, man. It’s Championships! She sick?” a voice asked.

“No. She’s quitting. Our top-scoring right wing is quitting. She said she was tired of the bullying. So, my question to you is, what bullying?”

Tim could imagine how hard those boys were probably staring at the floor or the wall or at anything that wasn’t the coach. But if Terry was half the man Tim thought he was, he’d find the weak link and jump on him.

“Connor, tell me what happened.”

There was a pause.
Fess up
,
you little bastard
, Tim thought.

“Well, you know, she’s a
girl.
”

“I know she’s a girl, Connor. What does that have to do with anything?”

Poor Connor twisted in the wind.

“Evan? Did you get on her for being a girl?”

“Yeah.”

“Because...?”

“‘Cause hockey’s for boys,” he said. “Everybody knows it.”

“I don’t know it,” Hart said, judging that to be the optimum moment for his grand entrance.

An audible gasp made Tim laugh quietly into his hand.

“I take it from the looks on your faces that you know who I am,” Hart said. “So I think I’m qualified as an expert on the subject of hockey, and let me tell you, hockey is for everyone. It’s for you guys, it’s for girls, it’s even for people who don’t have legs. Yeah. Sled hockey. Look it up on the internet.”

“But my dad says—”

Hart interrupted. “Is your dad in the NHL?”

“No.”

“Okay then.”

Tim risked a peek into the room and saw Hart with his arms crossed, his feet apart and the team looking up at him in awe.

“So I take it there’s some girl who wants to join the team?”

“No, she’s been on the team all season, but Coach said she just quit.”

“Well, she must have sucked, right? Because she’s a girl?”

Coach Terry cleared his throat. “Rachel was our top scorer. By a wide margin.”

“Interesting.”

“Apparently, these lunkheads have been telling her she shouldn’t be playing because she’s a girl.”

“And now she’s gone,” Hart said. “On the day of the Championships. Jeez, boys, that’s too bad. You know, I’ve seen teams rally in circumstances like this. Their top scorer gets injured and can’t play, but the other guys step up and rise to the occasion. But, I don’t think that’s going to happen here because you are not a team.”

“Yes, we are.”

“No, you’re not. Listen, you guys watch hockey on TV, right? You know when someone scores a goal and every single man on the ice at the time skates back to the bench and they all bump fists? Why do you think we do that? Why isn’t it just the one guy? The guy who scored the goal?”

A new voice spoke. “Because he didn’t do it alone.”

“Coach, who’s that guy?”

“David Napier.”

“Napier, A-plus. He didn’t do it alone. Every single guy on the ice contributed to that goal. They all worked as a team. A team is
one unit.
If one of your teammates is weird or different, doesn’t matter.
They’re your teammate.
If they smell bad. If their ears are too big. If they dress funny.
Doesn’t matter.
They’re your teammate.
Are you getting me?”

Tim’s phone vibrated. It was Stephanie.
We’re
here
.

He hurried down the corridor. Rachel didn’t see him at first, but when she did, her face lit up and a moment later she launched herself into his arms. “You came!”

“Hey, Sappy, I said I would.”

She kissed his cheek loudly about a dozen times and squeezed him hard. Steph came over and gave him a one-armed hug. Dan nodded his greeting.

Shifting his niece so she sat on his hip, he walked back toward the dressing room. “Did your mom and dad tell you what’s going on?”

A sly smile came over her face. “Yes.”

“So we’re going to go in there and prove to those guys that you were telling the truth about your uncle.”

“And it’s going to be
awesome.
”

“But I want to tell you something first,” Tim said. “After this, the slate’s clean. You don’t hold it against them.”

A tiny wrinkle appeared in her forehead. “But—”

“No buts. We show them they were wrong and then we forget about it. It’s called good sportsmanship. In hockey, we don’t lord a win over our opponents. We acknowledge them with respect. Otherwise you’re a jerk, and no niece of mine is going to be a jerk.

“And besides, you have a championship to win and you can’t do it all by yourself. You need your team as much as they need you. Tonight, I want to see some beautiful plays, you guys working together. Like the Three Musketeers. All for one and one for all.”

Chapter Thirty-Eight

When the attendant called to tell her Tim had pulled into the garage, as requested, Erin jumped out of bed. It was three a.m. but she hadn’t been sleeping. The anticipation of his homecoming kept her up. She hurried to light the candles she’d placed around the bedroom. Then she turned down the covers and arranged herself on the bed in what she hoped was a sexy pose. All she had on was her Barracuda jersey. Nothing else.

She heard his key in the lock, then a rumble as his suitcase rolled over the threshold and a couple of clicks as he pushed the handle down. After closing the door, he walked quietly down the hallway.

When he entered the bedroom, his eyes widened. He smiled as he looked her over and his expression turned from one of surprise to hungry appreciation.

“How come you’re not sleeping? Don’t you have to work in a couple of hours?” He got undressed as quickly as he could, leaving his travel clothes on the chair.

“I missed you too much, so I took the day off.”

He slid into bed and took her into his arms. Her world righted itself and all her problems seemed to melt away as he kissed her.

“I missed you too. God, I missed you.”

He ran his hands all over her body, grabbing her here, squeezing her there, as if he needed reassurance that he was home in bed with her, that she wasn’t some figment of his imagination. She felt the same way. They rolled around, limbs tangled together, mouths hungry. His moans excited her. So did his thick erection. The heat and size of it pressed against her, filled her with desire. But as urgent as their mood was, when he moved down, kissing her belly, her mound, pushing her legs apart and opening her to his mouth, he slowed it down. He grew careful and cautious. His touch softened. When she felt his breath on her and then his tongue, she panted with anticipation.

The man had mad skills on the ice, and here in bed she got a taste of what it must be like to play hockey with him. He and his teammates sometimes seemed to communicate telepathically. They calculated speed and distance in the blink of an eye to pass the puck to each other, sometimes without even looking. And now, in a sense, she and Tim were a team of just two people. The attention to detail, the subtle command of the situation, and his timing, all of it contributed to something akin to perfect sex.

With his large hands holding her thighs, he tongued, kissed and licked her until her moans were almost constant. She followed his mouth with her hips, yearning for the contact. The need built inside her steadily, she gasped for breath as she fought for the orgasm.

“Please, please,” she kept saying, her voice strained and impatient.

He wrapped his lips around her tiny clit and suckled on her. It felt good. It felt incredibly good.

Five seconds later, she lost it. Pleasure seized her, shook her hard. Her back arched and she let out a keening cry. Tim gripped her thighs and stayed with her, never losing contact with her pussy, reining himself back as she descended back to earth. Tonguing her softly until she pulled away, limp and exhausted even though he’d done all the work.

While Erin recovered, Tim sat up, grinning. “It was good, huh,” he said. They’d shoved the bedcovers into a haphazard pile which had spilled over onto the floor. He ran a hand over her hip with a well-deserved smirk on his face.

“It was very, very good. It was so good I may need you to do that nightly.”

“I got no problem with that request.”

She stretched, sated and satisfied. She gave him a sidelong glance and smiled. “It’s your turn now.”

She sat him on the edge of the bed, his feet flat on the floor while she knelt. His penis seemed bigger than she’d ever seen it. Thick and engorged, the veins in sharp relief against the smooth shaft. She bent her head and took it into her mouth. Tim groaned. The muscles in his thighs tensed. She pulled back, then sucked him deeper.

“Oh, fuck, that’s good,” he growled. He put a hand on her head and leaned back.

He liked it when she played with his balls, so she dragged her tongue down the length of him, and licked and caressed the loose skin while he moaned, two hundred plus pounds of man quivering on the brink. It wasn’t long before he nudged her away and snatched a condom from the nightstand.

“No more.” He pulled her up and maneuvered her onto the bed.

Instinctively, she opened her legs and just as naturally, he filled the space with his hips. A moment later, he was burying himself inside her, no hesitation, no teasing, just full-on penetration until his groin was pressed hard against hers. He kissed her. He told her he loved her as he began to move. His love made all the difference. Orgasms were all well and good, but they were really just icing on the cake. What really mattered was the give and take, the willingness to be completely naked with each other, no clothes, no pretending, just their most basic selves. Every time they went to bed together, they reaffirmed their commitment to each other. That was the only reason she could think of to explain how complete she felt when he was inside her and how bereft she felt when he inevitably pulled out.

He didn’t last long, but she was more than ready. She cradled him with her body as he came, gasping and panting into her neck. Eventually, his breathing slowed and quieted. Silver-blue light spilled in through the windows from the city outside and everything felt right again.

“So what happened at the game? Did they win?” Erin asked, snuggling up next to him and laying her head on his chest.

“They did. Not only did they win, Rachel got All-City MVP. She got a damn hat trick.”

“Oh my God, Tim, that’s fantastic. You must be so proud.”

“You should have seen her. She’s really good. She’s fast. She has great hands. She sees the game like a kid twice her age. Steph kept telling me she was good. So did Dad, but I thought they were just saying that.”

“What does ‘sees the game’ mean?”

“It means she can see plays developing, sort of predict what’s going to happen and react, in a way, before it happens.”

“What position does she play?”

“Right wing.”

“Just like you.”

He chuckled. “Just like me, but she could really play any forward position. I took some video on my phone. I’ll show you tomorrow. Oh, and I asked the three of them—shoot, it’ll be four by then—to come out next Christmas if my schedule will allow it. They baby should be old enough to travel by then. They’ve never been to San Diego before.”

“That’s sounds like fun. I could take a few days off and we’ll take them to the zoo and Sea World and Legoland. Disneyland, too, maybe,” Erin said.

When Tim didn’t say anything, she lifted her head. “What’s wrong? Do you not want to go to Disneyland?”

“If you’re talking about showing my sister and her family the sights, does that...does that mean we’re okay? The wedding is still on?”

All the bright cheer that had been in his eyes just seconds ago had disappeared, replaced with worry and anguish so heartbreaking, she grabbed his shoulder and squeezed it hard.

“You’d better believe it’s on,” she said fiercely. She never wanted to see that look on his face again. “I’m not stupid. I know a good man when I find one,” she said.

He swallowed hard and gave her a weak smile. “Are you sure? I want you to be sure.”

“Tim,” she said, “I’m one hundred percent sure I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I’m never happier than I am when I’m with you. I love you so much. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone.”

“And you’re okay with it just being the two of us?” Now the anguish was gone and...well, nothing was in its place. He had an expressionless mask on, or more aptly an invisible face shield, like the kind he now wore on the ice to protect himself.

“I won’t lie. I was extremely upset when you left.” Upset didn’t even begin to describe it. She’d cried her eyes out for at least fifteen minutes, sitting there in the parked car. Then, when she remembered she had to go to work, she continued to cry until she pulled into a parking space at Good Sam where she finally got herself together enough to face people.

“Even though I understood where you were coming from, I was angry. And sad too. It felt like we were breaking up.”

He had his eyes averted, and she noted the tendons in his neck were taut, but he said nothing.

“And, honestly, I thought it wasn’t fair that I had to choose between two things I wanted very much. I’m not saying that to make you feel guilty. I just want you to know how I felt, is all.”

“No, that’s okay. I’m the one asking you to make this choice, so it’s only right that you let me know how hard it was to make it.”

“But the more I thought about what we have together, the more I realized how lucky I am. Life’s not fair, and it’s naive to expect it to be otherwise. None of us ever get everything we want. I always wanted to be three inches taller and live in a mansion with servants who spoke with English accents. But that’s not going to happen.”

He chuckled. What a welcome sound. “I don’t know,” he said. “You can wear some really high high-heels and if you really want to live in a mansion, we could talk with my financial guy...”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re missing the point.”

“No, I got it,” he said, “but I think you’re missing mine. Which is that I love you and if there’s anything in this world you want, I will do my best to make sure you get it.”

Except your sperm and my egg doing their thing
a shitty little voice said. She ignored it.

“Tim, I know that. I know that in my bones. I feel the same way about you. It took me a while to sift through everything, all the emotion and expectations, but eventually I figured out if the choice I have is a life with you and no children and a life without you and all the children I want, I choose you. I absolutely choose you. Through some weird quirk of fate, we found each other and damned if I’m going to throw that away.”

* * *

A tsunami of emotion flooded Tim. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. It was almost as if his entire body just rebooted like a computer. Her unconditional acceptance of him made him feel proud and unworthy at the same time. He didn’t deserve her. He was a selfish, cowardly asshole, and even though she had every right to tell him to fuck off and good luck with your issues, she hadn’t. She still wanted to marry him. He was still going to wake up to her smiling face every morning, come home to her after road trips, be able to chuckle when she fussed over some little cut on his face or bruise on his body. Grateful and humbled, he made a promise to himself right then to make sure she never regretted her decision.

She spooned up against his front and he wrapped an arm around her small waist. As his hand found its way to her flat stomach, an image of her chubbily pregnant, like Waverly, crept into his mind. Before he could send it away, he recognized how adorable Erin be, and once that happened, he started remembering all sorts of shit from when Wave was big with Mollie. The excitement and anticipation. The awe he felt when he watched the ultrasound monitor or put his hand on her stomach and felt his unborn daughter move.

In an act of self-preservation, he rolled over onto his back and ruthlessly called up the memory of when the doctor told them it was leukemia, which was exactly what he needed to banish those stupid daydreams. After games, they took ice baths to help flush the toxins, like lactic acid, that had built up in the body. The baths were extremely unpleasant, like the leukemia memory, but in Tim’s mind, necessary.

He and Erin could and would have a full and happy life without kids. Everyone knew having children complicated things, put stress on couples. This way, he and Erin would be able to put all their effort toward the relationship with each other. All things considered, it should be easier without the distraction and constant demands of kids. All he had to do was stay the course.