Across the Line (In The Zone) (23 page)

Chapter Forty

The next morning, Becca got right to work. Now that she’d made the decision to borrow the money, her internal engine revved up. Time to get back on the professional highway. Or because she was living with a hockey player, she supposed she was more appropriately hopping the boards and getting back on the ice.

Either way, she had a goal now.

She was so engrossed outlining a loose plan that when Calder put a smoothie down on the table, he startled her.

“Oh, hey, thanks,” she said, smiling at him. “I was going to make eggs.”

“I love your eggs, but I’ve got to get going.”

“Already?” She took a sip of the shake. It was kind of gritty. He probably put some of that protein powder in it.

“Becks, it’s quarter to nine.”

Her jaw dropped. “It is? I had no idea.”

“No game today, but there’s a PR thing I have to do after practice, so I’ll see you around four.”

She basically didn’t look up until he got home. Again, he startled her with a hand on her shoulder.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I called your name, but you were lost in thought.” He pulled her to her feet and into his arms. His kiss was welcome. The slight ache she felt in her legs from sitting too long was not.

“Have you been sitting here the entire time I was gone?” he asked.

“Of course not.”

“Liar. You still have dried-up drool on your chin from last night.”

She touched her face. He was right. She hadn’t even brushed her teeth. She grimaced. “Okay, you’re right. I’m just...there’s so much to do.”

He glanced at the table. Several neat piles of paper covered the surface. There were so many aspects she had to think about: employees, kitchen equipment, food, furniture, decor and, above all, location.

He perused some of her notes. “Can I help at all?”

“That is so sweet of you, but no.”

“I can take care of dinner.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You? Cook?”

He scoffed. “Nah. I was going to get a pizza.”

She suddenly realized she hadn’t eaten since that gritty shake he’d made for her that morning, because the thought of a hot, cheesy pepperoni pizza made her mouth water. “Pizza would be amazing.”

Forty-five minutes later, he came back with more than a pizza.

He came into the kitchen with the expected large, flat box, and a heavy-looking bag from the Apple store.

“What did you do?” she asked with an expression that was a little bit of disapproving frown, but much more excitement.

“I got you an early Christmas present.”

“Calder, oh my God.” She bounced on the balls of her feet as he pulled a pristine white box out of the bag and put it on the table.

“What we have here is your top-of-the-line laptop, maxed out on everything and an extended warranty. Plus an external hard drive for—whoa!” He staggered as she threw herself into his arms, thanking him with words and kisses all over his face. “You’re welcome, you’re welcome.” He chuckled. “I should bring home a computer more often.”

Chapter Forty-One

The next day, Tim’s wife, Erin, came over to help Becca find a location. Dressed in jeans and a Barracuda T-shirt, Erin wore her brown hair in a ponytail like Becca did and still had that newlywed glow about her.

“Erin, you don’t know how much I appreciate this.”

“Don’t mention it. It sounded like fun. Sort of like being on one of those real estate reality shows.”

Becca described the Commons, the old Cups and its clientele. She also showed her pictures of Cups on her phone. Calder’s mother had given her a menu she’d kept for handy reference and Becca treasured it as the only physical memento of her beloved café. After Erin had an idea of the type of neighborhood they were looking for, they searched the internet for restaurants up for sale and pinpointed several that looked promising.

The day was sunny, the temp around seventy. In Ithaca it was probably in the brisk mid-fifties. After they were done scouting locations, she and Erin were going to watch the game together. The Barracudas had left that morning and wouldn’t be back for another five days.

Unfortunately, all their targeted locations turned out to be less than ideal. Their last stop that day was an area known as Paseo Loco. Calder had suggested they check it out. One of the equipment guys had told him it was a little shopping district that was trying to be trendy. It used to be kind of run-down, but over the past several years, they’d been trying to revitalize the area, get businesses to move in that are a little kooky and different. Erin had never heard of it.

Becca didn’t put much stock into a tip from one of the team baggage handlers, but when they got there, she liked what she saw. In her mind’s eye, she could see the potential. Tourism was important to San Diego’s economy and a place like Paseo Loco could become one of those mini destinations in the city, a place you could go when you got tired of SeaWorld, the zoo and the beach. And it reminded her a lot of the Commons.

When they saw a For Lease sign in one of the windows, she felt a subdued excitement. The space, much larger than the old Cups, had been a Mexican restaurant called Maria’s Tacos.

Stepping up to the window, she and Erin cupped their hands and peered inside.

“Obviously, you’ll need to redecorate,” Erin said.

The interior walls were all warm desert colors—rust and tan with accents of green and red. Becca noted that although the counter was still facing the door, most of the seating was to the side, not in front of the order area like it had been at the old Cups. She didn’t mind that. She really wished they could go inside and see what the kitchen looked like.

She stepped away to get a look at the neighboring businesses. A vintage clothing store. An art gallery. Across the street was a community theater. A juice bar. All good. She pictured the Cups lime-green and black canopy and signage. There wasn’t room for patio tables, but she could live with that too. One less area to keep clean.

Erin pointed to a sign in the window. “There’s the name and number of the leasing company. If you ask me, this is the best location we’ve been to so far.”

“I agree.” Becca pulled out her phone. “You know, let’s just call them now. It’s only three-thirty.”

Ten minutes later she hung up, bursting with excitement. “The guy is meeting us here in twenty minutes.”

Erin shaded her eyes and looked through the window again. “I think that’s a sign they’re really anxious to rent the space.”

“I think so too,” Erin said. “But let’s play it cool.”

* * *

The real estate guy confirmed the equipment guy’s assessment of the vibe of the neighborhood and the innovative and chic reputation it was garnering, but that was to be expected. The man would probably say anything to close the deal. Becca pointed out changes they’d have to make to the interior, adjustments to the setup they’d had in Ithaca, especially in the kitchen. They talked about a timetable and, of course, money. Overall, it looked promising. She took his card, thinking the chances were good she’d be calling him tomorrow.

They didn’t get back to Becca’s until six. Over a dinner of the newest incarnation of Surf and Turf Soup, Cups’ signature freshly baked rolls and a tossed green salad, they agreed Maria’s Tacos would make a terrific new location. Working during the meal, they made a sketch of the layout of Maria’s and discussed flow and table arrangements, delivery truck access and parking. Erin suggested a contractor she knew—a guy whose child had been a patient of hers—and a mom of another patient who made cheese in the garage that she’d converted into a commercial-grade kitchen. She also promised to talk to the Barracudas’ head PR guy and see if they could figure out a way to promote the new Cups in connection with a Barracuda personal appearance. Apparently that’s how she and Tim had met, at an autograph signing at a burger joint, and she said it was an annual, well-attended event.

“Hot soup and ice hockey,” Erin said. “It’s perfect.”

“But that won’t be for a while yet.”

“It can’t hurt to get them thinking about it.”

That got them talking about the logistics and details involved in something like that, how they could promote it, what they could serve in honor of the Barracudas, and the ideas came one after another. They were trying to find out if barracudas were edible when Becca got a call from Calder.

“Hey, did you watch the game?”

Becca started and looked at Erin with a pained look. “It’s over? Already?”

“You didn’t see it?” He sounded disappointed.

“I’m sorry. I lost track of time. Erin and I got all caught up talking about what I think might be the perfect location for the new Cups.”

“Becks, that’s fantastic! Holy crap. Where?”

As Erin started cleaning up, Becca summarized what they’d seen that day, unable to rein in her excitement. Calder sounded just as excited. He even paused at one point to shout to the guys, “Becca found a place for the new Cups!”

She heard a spontaneous cheer in the background that had her laughing. Not too long ago she’d been content and proud of her accomplishments, having pulled herself up by her bootstraps and succeeded on her own with no help from anyone. Now, she had Calder, Erin and the whole damn team behind her. Even though she’d only just moved to San Diego, she felt the roots taking hold, as if this town and the friends she had here were going to be more of a home to her than Ithaca ever had.

Chapter Forty-Two

Calder woke up optimistic. After a successful road trip, the coach had given them a rare day off. Currently second in the Pacific Division, the Barracudas returned to San Diego with three wins under their belt to contribute to their winning streak of, now, five in a row. Calder and Hart continued to score together and it seemed as if with every game that went by, their ability to find each other on the ice got better and better.

He worked out at Power Play, then met Becca at Paseo Loco, because the woman had found a location and, boom, signed the lease while he’d been gone. Everything was now gung-ho, full speed ahead. Today she planned to get some estimates from a few contractors and he was going to tag along. She’d resisted, telling him she didn’t need him and that he should enjoy his day off, but because hockey required him to be away so much, now that he was finally home, he intended to be as supportive as possible.

The first contractor, Eli Austen, grinned widely when he saw Calder. “I’ll be damned. Calder Griffin. It’s great to meet you. I’m a big fan.”

“Thanks, Eli.”

“The wife and I manage a couple of games a year. The nosebleed seats, usually. We’ve got two teenage daughters and weddings are expensive.”

“I hear you,” Calder said. “Let me hook you up with some tickets, then. How does that sound?”

The guy lit up. “That sounds great! Wow. That’s really nice of you.”

“No problem, man.” Calder hoped maybe the guy might be inclined to give Becca some extra consideration now.

“So is this a joint venture?” Eli asked, taking a pencil out from behind his ear. “Are you looking for something to do after you retire?”

Looking slightly irritated, Becca cleared her throat. “No, the restaurant is mine. Calder’s just lending me the funds until my insurance claim gets processed.”

She told him the story of the old Cups, the fire and the decision to move to California. She described the restaurant, the cuisine, the demographics of the old location and her budget. Calder enjoyed watching her go into business mode. She was so matter-of-fact, so decisive. As she walked Eli around the empty space and talked about her plans, Calder started getting turned on. He wondered if she might be into showing him a little of that dominance in bed. Might be fun.

“And ideally, I’d like the self-service beverage bar off to the side along that wall,” Becca said.

“Not by the register?” Calder asked. “Because that way they could pay and then get their drink right away.”

Becca frowned. “No, if it’s there, it’ll cause a traffic problem with the people standing in line to order. If you want a refill and there’s a line...” She trailed off.

“It wouldn’t work that way anyway. The plumbing’s not hooked up there. We could put the bar there, but it would cost a lot more money. That wall you were talking about first is actually going to work better.”

They talked plumbing for a while, moved to the kitchen and talked more. Calder followed along, but didn’t say anything.

When they moved back into the main part of the space, Eli asked about the floors. “Are you going to want to keep this carpet?”

“It’ll keep down the noise,” Calder said, thinking about how his own house echoed so much with the marble floors. When the guys were over to watch a game in the man cave, it could get pretty loud. Of course, maybe that wasn’t the floor’s fault.

“That’s true, but—” she turned to Eli, “—I want concrete. It’s easier to keep clean than carpet. It’s durable. It’s current.”

Eli nodded. “Concrete’s the in thing right now. Has been for a few years now.”

After that, Calder just kept quiet. Clearly, she knew much more than he did about the restaurant business and if he wanted to be supportive, he should probably just stop interrupting her. But at the same time, standing around doing nothing grated on him. He didn’t enjoy feeling useless.

But it got worse.

Later that night, they were in the bedroom. Ten hours since he got home from his road trip and they’d only had sex once.

Not that he was keeping track.

Becca had her computer on her lap. The bed was littered with papers. He’d tried earlier to get her in the mood, but she resisted. So he’d bided his time until she was actually
in
bed. Since bed was the primary location for their sexual goings-on, it would be one less hurdle for him. He went into the bathroom. He shaved. He brushed his teeth. He even fucking flossed. By the time he came out, she was typing, clicking, shuffling papers, making notes, mumbling to herself.

“Hey, how about you put that away for the night?”

She gave him a brief smile. “I’m almost to a good stopping point. Why don’t you watch highlights until I’m done?”

Rolling onto his back, he stared at the ceiling. He thought about how sweet a goal could be when he waited and held on to that puck just a little bit longer. Patience was a virtue, he told himself.

But he couldn’t completely stop himself. During commercials, he did everything he could to arouse her, everything that usually worked—neck nuzzling, earlobe nibbling, nipple tickling—but all he got was a look of annoyance.

“Calder, please. I’m trying to work. A couple of the contractors need some more info before they can give me an estimate, so I’m under the gun. Like I said, just let me get to a good stopping point.”

Chastised, but not beaten, he reined it in for another forty-five minutes.

After he considered himself fully informed about what happened around the league that day, he glanced at Becca. She was still hard at work.

She must have felt his scrutiny because she stopped typing and glanced at him. “Highlights over?”

“Yup.” He grinned at her then scooted underneath the covers.

“Calder...wait.” Sitting cross-legged, she put a hand on his head, but he persisted, aiming to get her legs apart. “Hold on. Hey, wait! You’re messing up my piles.”

He tried to take her by the ankle when she shrieked and suddenly was gone. Like out of the bed.

More than a little frustrated, he emerged from under the covers. “What’s going on?” He tried very hard not to let his frustration show.

Frowning, she was snatching papers up off the covers. “I had everything all organized. I told you to wait.”

“I did wait. I waited for an hour.”

Still frowning, she glanced at the clock, then looked surprised. “It’s midnight?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry. I had no idea it was that late.” She looked at her computer, still open on top of the bed.

Close it.
For the love of God
,
close it.

With a sigh, she put her computer and papers off to the side.

He should have been happy she was pulling her T-shirt off and turning out the lights and the TV. He should have rejoiced when she pressed herself against him and kissed him on the lips. He should have done a fucking backflip when she wrapped her hand around his cock.

But he didn’t.

That sigh had been way too heavy for his liking.

She stopped kissing him, stopped caressing him. “What’s wrong? I thought you wanted this.”

“You know, here’s a news flash, but I only want it if you want it.”

“I do want it.”

“Bullshit. You’d rather be working.”

She released his cock. “It’s not a matter of rather, Calder. It’s
work.
Those questions have to be answered. I told those guys I’d get back to them tonight. So come on now, be a grown-up. Don’t pout.”

“I’m not pouting,” he said, glad the light was out because he probably
was
fucking pouting.

They didn’t say anything for a while. Part of him felt like going into the bathroom with his phone and jerking off to some porn, but then she reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, I’m sorry.”

It sounded sincere, but he waited to see if there was more.

“I’m sorry I put you off for so long, but I don’t think you understand how excited I am about everything now. It’s...it’s kind of like hockey.”

“What do you mean it’s like hockey?”

“This, this situation. It’s like when you trained and prepared all summer, worked your ass off, bored out of your mind and suddenly, it’s training camp. You get to get back on the ice, back in the locker room with all your teammates. That’s what I’m feeling now. Now that I’ve signed that lease, it’s all systems go. I finally have something to do again. You have no idea how hard it’s been for me since the fire. I felt so aimless, so useless. But now, I’m working again. I’m going to reopen Cups.” She squeezed his shoulder hard. “And it’s all thanks to you. I couldn’t have done it without your loan and don’t think I’ll ever forget it. I ought to be kissing your feet in gratitude.”

The hockey analogy registered. He could hear the excitement in her voice. He felt that same kind of itchy anticipation every year, just like she’d described.

“Okay.” Grudgingly, he let go of his pout. “But if you want to know the truth, I’d rather you kissed a different part of my body.”

“This part?” She put her lips on his chin and gave a small gasp. “Oh, you shaved.”

“Yes, I shaved. No, not that part.”

She kissed the base of his throat and his cock stirred.

“Nope, not that part either. You’re gonna have to go lower. Not my chest. My stomach either. And holy fuuuck. That’s it, right there.”

Her hot mouth closed over the head and his eyes rolled back. He didn’t really do any more thinking after that.