A Bear Victory (5 page)

No smart hockey PR rep missed out on an evening with two title-worthy teams, where guys tended to be just a little liquored up and eager to spill juicy tidbits made for tweets. But Kimberley was nowhere to be found.

Does she really hate me that fucking much?
Cannon wondered to himself, finally pushing himself off the bar before anyone spotted him and tried to have a chat.

He wasn’t a smoker, but he grabbed his leather jacket on the way out and stepped into the crisp evening air, the sun having set hours ago but the pristine white snow that kept falling almost endlessly in Idaho that time of year making the surroundings bright enough. He heaved in a breath, letting it out in a sigh as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

Cannon idly looked around, but the first glance to the right had him doing a double take. There she was. Kimberley Thomas in all her glory, a heavy workout bag slung over her shoulder and the satchel across her body, looking morosely annoyed with anything and everything. But mostly the sight of Cannon Wright.

“I thought you’d left,” Cannon said with a placating smile, taking a step closer to her.

“Oh did you?” Kimberley asked, cocking a brow at him. “With all the options one has of getting out of his godforsaken little dump!”

She was so damn cute when she was upset. Cannon had to put some real effort into not grinning, stopping a reasonable distance from her so she wouldn’t feel the need to run again. Knowing her long legs, he wouldn’t put it past her to hike it all the way back to Idaho Falls to catch an actual plane out of here.

“It’s a little backwater, sure, but it grows on you,” he offered with a shrug, having found himself more and more enamored with the wide open spaces, the fresh air, and the fantastic mountains.

It was just the right combination of serene and homey, while providing an adrenaline junkie like Cannon plenty of opportunities to snowboard, mountain climb, and generally be a fool whenever he wasn’t in practice. Which really wasn’t that often, to tell the truth.

“Like a fungus?” Kimberley queried, but there wasn’t any spite in her words, not really.

There might have even been a tiny smile, though it was so faint that Cannon would have had to squint to make it out and he figured she was done with his teasing one way or another. He spread his hands in a welcoming gesture, shrugging his shoulders.

“Maybe,” he offered. “Look, I know you’re pissed, Kimberley. Can I buy you a beer, tell you why I did what I did? Maybe we can grab a bite or something. You have to be starving. You look like you’ve been dragging that thing around all day,” he said, pointing at the bag that was weighing one of her shoulders down heavily.

Kimberley gave the bag an exasperated look and Cannon was sure she was stifling the eye roll that was bubbling up inside of her. He hadn’t forgotten how she was a compulsive over-packer and this was just another brilliant rendition of Kimberley’s capability of lugging along too much. It was endearing.

Before she could answer, he took another step closer and hovered there for a moment, looking down at her. He wanted nothing so much as to just kiss her right then and there, but instead, he picked the bag up off her shoulder and slung it over his own with a low grunt. That body slam he’d taken from the two Grizzlies had hurt no less with the lack of a wall to be thrown into, and he was only now feeling it.

Regardless, he gave her a winning smile and it earned him a glowering look in response.

“Is that your next clever ruse, to get me drunk and sated?”

“Naw, I think we’re playing it by ear now. I think we have time,” he said with a smirk, motioning toward the shining lights of a small diner down the road, making a quick decision to get her away from the bustle of the pub and take her somewhere where they could actually talk.

“You knew there was no way out of here, didn’t you?” Kimberley asked as they fell into step, her hands tucked into her pockets, mirroring him.

“I had a hunch,” Cannon confessed, inclining his head.

The Sunrise Diner was run by Cerise, a lively, smart-mouthed woman who could hit any cowboy over the head if they misbehaved. With Austin’s Texas opening up down the road, she’d obviously had to do a lot less of that and Cannon wasn’t entirely sure if that was a good thing. She’d make a hell of a shutdown defensemen in another life, that was for sure.

He waved to Cerise as they stepped in, the diner busy, but relatively quiet. She gave him a toothy grin back, tilting her chin as Cannon showed Kimberley to a booth and set her bag down on the seat as well. He suppressed the urge to slip around the bend of the red leather seat and cuddle up next to her, going for the safer option of sitting across from her.

Cerise appeared a moment later, with two steaming cups of coffee, and an expectant look shot at Cannon.

“Usual?”

“Two. And a cherry pie,” he said, receiving a quick nod as Cerise made her way off to fetch their food.

“So you’re like a regular here?” Kimberley asked, peeling off her jacket and exposing the Grizzlies’ jersey, which made Cannon clutch his chest theatrically.

“You were rooting for the other guys? Baby, I’m hurt deeply.”

“I’m not your baby,” Kimberley said with a sigh, but there was definitely that smile again that Cannon so missed.

Damn that woman, she made him sit on pins and needles with the tiniest things. He’d missed it like nothing else and his bear was practically clawing inside of him, demanding that he fix everything he’d broken all those years ago.

But it isn’t so easy…

“Okay, point taken. Maybe one day, right?” he said with a wink, not waiting for an answer before continuing. “But yeah, we’re in here pretty often. Cerise claims we’re eating so much that she can’t keep the shipments coming in fast enough, but I don’t buy it. Did you see the crowd? Half of those guys are bigger than our enforcers are. Crazy. I wouldn’t be surprised if we get switched for some of these locals. There’s this whole family of stags who can skate circles around me.”

He shook his head, still taken with how pucked up this whole place was, sipping his coffee. Kimberley’s hands slipped around her mug as well and she brought it up to her lips with two hands like she always did, and he couldn’t hide the wide grin that appeared on his lips watching her do that.

“What?” she asked, looking a tiny bit surprised.

“The way you drink your coffee. It hasn’t changed,” he said, grinning like a fool.

“A lot of other stuff has though, Cannon,” she remarked, flicking her gaze down to her cup and taking another swig.

“Can’t argue with that,” he noted, feeling bile rise in his throat.

He’d hurt this girl badly and now he was sitting at a table with her, about to put a knife in her hands. He wasn’t entirely sure if she’d keep from shoving it in his chest. But then again, bleeding out on the floor of a diner in Idaho still might have felt better than going without her for the rest of his life, so he was willing to take his chances here.

Cerise was back fast enough with his usual: mashed potatoes, gravy, and a thick slab of beef. It was his go-to meal after every workout because of how well Cerise made it—always have to trust the predators to cook your meat, if that’s your style. He dug in, giving Kimberley an encouraging look to do the same. She gave him a questioning glance, but picked up her knife and fork with a slight sigh.

By the end of the first bite, she was looking at him and then her food like she’d just seen a vision. Cerise’s cooking could do that to a person.

“Still want to fight?” he asked, cocking a brow.

“Sure. But after we eat,” Kimberley said, giving him a glare that was only halfhearted.

By the end of the main course, Cerise had already shown up with a big cherry pie with whipped cream and two forks, clearing the plates with a knowing wink tossed in Cannon’s direction. Usually, he and Cerise would chit-chat a bit, but she was being an excellent wing-woman today and just letting Cannon dig his own grave. Or shovel his own grave, whatever.

“So, did you find a place to stay?” Cannon queried, deciding to ease into the conversation.

Not that he’d been able to look away. Kimberley was… well, radiant. She’d always been curvy but she’d really filled out over the years he hadn’t seen her, no longer an awkward girl, but now a beautiful woman. Her long blonde hair was tied back in a messy ponytail and her lips were plump with this deliciously arched Cupid ’s bow that begged to be smothered in kisses. She had a heart-shaped face and her body screamed to be held. By him. No one else.

Just the thought of her having been with others—and he knew there had to have been boyfriends because she was far too hot to have been alone—made his blood boil. Cannon found himself clutching the fork so hard he feared he might snap it in half. He relaxed his grip as she looked at his fingers flexing around the fork, a little smile on her lips.

“No,” she admitted with a sigh. “Apparently your new hometown doesn’t even have a hotel. Some locals with a big compound out of town were offering lodging to everyone who got stuck because of the storm, but their rooms are filled up.”

“Great! You’re staying with me then,” Cannon said, smelling an opportunity and giving her a winning smile.

“Oh, am I?” Kimberley asked with a cocked brow, looking at him dubiously.

“Well, unless you have an insulated tent in that bag of yours, and I suspect you don’t, I think I’m your best option of not dying in the snow. What would the Montreal Sabres do without their plucky PR rep, after all? I’m being a good Samaritan here.”

Kimberley snorted, but she smiled, shaking her head. Good. She hadn’t shoved that fork in his chest yet
and
he’d gotten her to smile. Not that it made up for anything, but it was a start.

Cub steps.

“Fine. Just one night. And no funny business, okay?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” Cannon said solemnly, raising one hand and putting the one still clinging to the fork over his heart.

Next order of business—letting Heath know
he
was going to have to sleep in a pile of snow and getting Kimberley back to his little cabin without her running off on him again. If he could have, he would have gone back in time to have one serious talk with his past self about not being a goddamn idiot and treating this girl like she was supposed to be treated!

Too little, too late. But maybe I can make up for it.
 

CHAPTER SIX

Kimberley

I can’t believe I’m going along with this jerk,
Kimberley thought with some forced sullenness, trudging through the snow toward Cannon’s cabin, nestled in some picturesque woods that looked like something straight out of a magazine.

It was small, yes, but the porch light was on and it made it look like a little hideaway in all of the thick, fluffy snow. She traced after his steps, Cannon walking ahead with her pack over his shoulder, and Kimberley following him like a lost puppy. That wasn’t too far from the truth though. She always felt a little bit rattled around him.

You shouldn’t be doing this. He’s just going to screw you over again,
she reminded herself, biting down on her lip.
But what’s my other option? Sleep at the diner?

Kimberley shooed the idea away with a sigh as the two of them trudged up the steps and Cannon unlocked the door, ushering her in first. She held her breath as she pushed past him, willing herself not to breathe in a whiff of his masculine scent, knowing that she’d lose her head as she always did when she smelled him. Something about him always smelled so… manly. So
right
. It had floored her when she was eighteen and it still floored her now.

Stomping her feet a few times to drop off some of the snow, she stepped in, unzipping her jacket. Before she could hang it up, Cannon had taken it from her with a sheepish smile, pushing the door closed behind him. There he was again, so close, so… close. She found her breath hitching even as she pushed off the boots and forced herself to look away from him, from those brilliant blue eyes that seemed to always see everything, and the chiseled face that had only gotten more handsome with time.

The same face that was synonymous with both love and hate for her. But right now, it was lust that seemed to be winning over at the most inopportune time.

She slunk deeper into the cabin, desperate to clear her mind, which had been completely impossible even when she wasn’t around Cannon that day. Ever since she’d realized that Pucky was Cannon, she’d been a tangle of nerves and jittery responses. Nothing made sense and at the same time, everything did.

Why they’d talked so easily, why they’d clicked… why she’d felt the sexual tension even through texts! It had always been like that with Cannon. He’d been everything for her and she’d thought she’d been the same for him and then one day…

Kimberley’s hands rolled into fists just in time for Cannon to drop her heavy bag in the corner of the open-plan living room-kitchen, stalking past her close enough for their hands to brush against one another. He went to the kitchen and pulled out two glasses and a bottle of scotch, remembering her tastes all too well and apparently staying true to his own.