Across the Line (In The Zone) (30 page)

Chapter Fifty-Six

As Calder joined Tim on the blue line for a drill at practice, Tim called out, “Whoops. Watch out, fellas. Here comes the pussy.”

Calder felt like a juvenile when he said, “Stop goddamn calling me that.”

Tim lobbed a puck toward the slot where two players took after it to battle in the corner. He’d been razzing Calder for a couple of days now. “Stop being a pussy, then.”

“I’m not a fucking pussy.”

“Then why are you avoiding Becca?”

“Dude, she was in the hospital.”

“Ever heard of visiting hours?” Tim shot another puck toward the center. Two more players zipped forward.

“I
did
visit her, asshole.”

“Sure. Once. Big fucking deal. You skillfully managed to skip the birthday party.”

“I was busy,” Calder mumbled.

“Then today after practice you should go to Cups. She officially went back to work yesterday.”

“If there’s one place on earth she doesn’t want to see me, it’s at Cups.” Calder watched for his turn to surge forward, hoping it was soon. He didn’t like being in the hot seat.

Tim scoffed. “What load of pussy-fucking bullshit. She
wants
to see you.”

“No, she doesn’t.”

“Yes, she does. God, I fucking walk into the room at home and she looks at me with these eyes like an abandoned puppy. If some guy, some customer of hers picks up on that? He’ll be on her in a flash, offering sympathy and comfort and all sorts of other stuff.”

Calder wanted to dismiss that as unlikely, but the truth was, it could happen. There were a lot of guys out there who took advantage of needy women.

“Tim, I’m warning you. Shut the fuck up.”

“Or what? Whatcha gonna do?” Tim called as Calder was forced to skate forward and battle Fischer for the puck.

Fuming, Calder fought hard, won the battle, then sent the puck sailing down the ice to the far side. When he returned to the blue line again, Tim had gone, but Alex was there.

“What’s up Tim’s ass?” Alex asked.

“Nothing.” Calder tugged on the chin strap of his helmet. Fucking thing was driving him crazy.

Alex chuckled. “Bullshit. He’s riding you about letting Becca go.”

“Oh, like you should talk.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means, I’m not the one who’s afraid to commit to a woman for more than an hour.”

Alex stiffened and he raised his brows. “I’m not afraid, Griffin. I’m particular. If I had a woman like Becca, I’d have married her a long time ago.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

Calder pushed himself hard through the rest of practice, glaring at everyone, daring them to say something. He swore the next motherfucker who got on his case was going to get a fist in the face. Lucky for the team, no one else bothered him. He showered and got dressed and headed home.

He wasn’t a fucking pussy. It took a smart man to realize when he was fighting a losing battle. Other hockey players? Other guys? He knew how to fight those. But how was he supposed to fight a restaurant?

No one seemed to understand there was a difference between being cautious and being a coward. He was going to approach Becca. He was. As soon as he had a plan. He needed to figure out what he was going to say to her first, if he was going to bring some kind of olive branch, like the flowers Tim kept telling him were the best way to soften up an angry woman.

Looking at how happy Tim was, Calder thought there were worse people to take romantic advice from.

He thought hard about that and decided that a gourmet delicacy might be better in Becca’s case. Chocolate-covered strawberries, maybe. Or truffle-infused olive oil. She had exclaimed over that when he’d taken her to dinner once.

As he turned the corner onto his street, he noticed someone sitting on his doorstep.

Becca. Holy fuck.

He pulled into the garage. She was standing in the driveway by the time he got out of the car.

“Hi,” he said lamely.

She looked beautiful even in the harsh late-morning sunlight and even though she’d lost too much weight in the hospital. She wore jeans and a soft-looking white sweater. It clung to her breasts and made him want to put his hands on her. Her hair was down and it fluttered around her face as a slight breeze wafted past and she even had a little makeup on. It was very subtle, but he knew that face when it was naked and he could see she’d done something to her eyes, had a little color on her cheeks and lips.

She smiled and his heart contracted. He’d missed her so much. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and press his face into her hair, against her neck and breathe in the scent of her. He wanted to feel her body against his. He wanted to take her inside and make sweet love to her until she was breathless and sated and gazing up at him with those gorgeous almond-shaped eyes.

“You look a lot better than the last time I saw you,” he said.

“I feel a lot better.”

“Yeah, Tim had mentioned you had gone back to work. I hope you’re not pushing yourself too hard.”

“No, I’m being a good girl. I worked yesterday, but took today off. I wanted to see you.”

His blinked at her. “
You
took the day off?”

She smiled ruefully. “I know. Can you believe it?”

“It’s unheard of.”

“Luckily, Savannah is amazing. I should have listened to you way back when and talked to her about coming out here. If I had, maybe I wouldn’t have worked myself right into the hospital.”

“Hey, the important thing is that you’re better and things are going well.”

She put her hands in her pockets and nodded. “Cups is doing incredibly well, again, like you’d said it would. I misjudged you. You’re a pretty savvy guy and you have more business smarts than I gave you credit for. Your menu suggestions are especially on target.”

He didn’t know what to say. It was a miracle, Becca coming to his house, telling him he was right and giving him compliments. All the frustration he’d felt at practice and on the drive home had disappeared.

“Thanks. It’s nice to be appreciated.”

“I hope it’s nice to get money, too, because that’s what I have here for you.” She pulled out a high-five-figure cashier’s check.

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Calder frowned. “I don’t understand. What’s this? What’s going on?”

“It’s the money I owe you,” she said, fingering the check. “Most of it is from my insurance claim, but some of it I got from investors. Partners, really. Limited partners.”

“You? You took on partners?”

“I know. I know,” she said. She shook out her arms like they had gathered too much energy and she had to flick it away. “It’s unexpected. It’s crazy, but a couple of weeks ago, Anson Lau came to Cups. Lau is a big name in the restaurant business. He owns a bunch of restaurants on the East Coast. Anyway, he mentioned that he never opens a restaurant without partners, ever. And that, along with a tough-love discussion with Erin, made me really think hard about it. So long story short, I now have three partners who own, in total, fifteen percent of Cups.”

“That’s...that’s great, Becks, but aren’t you worried about them sticking their noses into your business? No pun intended.”

“No, I’m not, because they’re
limited
partners. They’ve agreed to let me make all the decisions, so I maintain control, and in return, they don’t have to do any of the work. It’s a win-win situation and we’re all happy.”

“Then I’m happy too,” he lied, reluctantly taking the check she offered him. He could tell by the expression on her face that repaying him was a relief to her, but damn it. He didn’t want her money. He wanted to rip the check to shreds. That debt was the last link holding them together and now there was nothing left. Not to mention the fact that she had three partners now and none of them were him. That hurt more than anything.

Something inside him curled up into a ball and he wished he could hibernate like a bear and go hide in a cave for a few months and sleep. He could just close his eyes and let time pass and wake up when everything looked fresh and new.

Fat fucking chance.

“So, this is great,” he said, forcing a smile as he folded the check and put it into his pocket. “Thanks.”

“Don’t you want to look at the amount? Make sure it’s everything I owe you?”

He scowled. “Give me a break, Becks. I trust you.”

“Because it’s actually short by quite a bit.”

“I don’t care about the money.”

“How can you not care about the money? I shorted you because I want you to be a partner too—the last partner. I want to give you a
ten
percent stake, double what the other guys have.”

That was it. His patience had run out. “Double? Wow. Fan-fucking-tastic. Am I supposed to be grateful? Because I’m not. I don’t think you understand at all. I don’t know if you’ll ever understand it was
never about the money.
It was about you and me and what we felt for each other. It was about sharing our lives and our problems and our triumphs. Don’t you get that? Fuck the ten percent. I don’t want ten percent of your business. I want one hundred percent of
you.
Not just the part you decide to eke out. I want it all. I want the—”

His words were cut off when, with a sob, she launched herself at him and plastered her lips to his. Fuck. For a moment, he was too shocked to feel anything, then suddenly he was kissing her back, taking over the kiss, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. She felt so good in his arms, her breasts smashed against his chest. He grabbed her ass with one hand while his other arm crossed her back in case she wanted to get away.

Like he was going to let that happen.

She was trying to talk, to say something between kisses. Her hands tugged at his hair and she was leaning away from him.

“Don’t,” he gasped, not loosening his arms one iota. “I’m not letting you go. I mean it, Becca. I’m done trying to live without you. I can’t do it.”

“I—I don’t want you to.”

Shocked again, he let her go so he could look at her face. Shit, he was so confused. “What did you say?”

She pressed her lips together then blurted, “I want us to get back together.”

“Then...” He frowned, still confused. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place? What was that bullshit about the check? And wanting me to be your business partner? What was that?”

She squeezed his head tightly. “That was my opening gambit. After that I was going to beg you to take me back. I’ve been such an idiot and I’m sorry. I’m sorry about so much. Getting pneumonia was probably one of the best things that ever happened to me, if that’s even possible. It made me realize that...that life’s so much better when you’re open to the people who love you.”

Calder watched her eyes well with tears.

“So, I’m really hoping—” she took a shuddering breath, “—I’m hoping you’re still one of those people.”

Relief spread throughout his body as he took her into his arms again. Everything that had been off-kilter now felt right. He had his woman back, and miracle of miracles, she was turning over a new leaf as far as her work was concerned. She’d taken on partners, for shit’s sake. That was huge. He had visions of them enjoying some leisure time together. During the off-season he might even convince her to take a real vacation, something she probably hadn’t done in a very long time.

“God, Becca, of course I’m one of those people.” He took her face into his hands and kissed her. “I love you so damn much.”

She sighed happily and snuggled up to his chest. “I love you too. It’s going to be better now. I—I promise I’ll be more needy.”

He laughed, even though his throat felt thick from the welling of emotion. “And I promise to never question your expenditures.”

They looked at each other and then both shook their heads.

“That won’t work,” he said. “I don’t want you to try to be needy. I love how independent and capable you are.” He kissed her then touched his forehead to hers. “But when you do stumble, I want you to let me step in and help. I want that in my contract.”

“So you
do
want to be my partner?”

“You bet I do.”

Epilogue

Booth MacDonald charged onto the team bus looking wild. “Tim, your phone’s dead. Erin called to say she’s in labor!”

Tim jumped to his feet, suddenly wild-eyed. “Fuck!”

It was eleven-thirty p.m. and the Barracudas had just finished beating San Jose in their fight for the Western Conference title and were heading to the airport for the flight back to San Diego. They were up three games to two in a best-of-seven series. Spirits were high, as was the pressure, and poor Tim had the added stress of Erin being in the late stages of pregnancy.

Tim yanked his phone out of his pocket. He frowned. “My phone isn’t dead.” He swiped and tapped the screen a couple of times. “And there aren’t any messages from her...”

When Tim finally looked up hopelessly confused, Mac guffawed. “Gotcha!”

After a moment, the rest of the bus erupted in laughter. Except for Tim.

“You fucker!” Tim shouted, lunging toward Mac who spun and hightailed it back down the steps of the bus and into the underground parking lot. As Tim took off after him, the guys on the far side of the bus got up and crossed the aisle to watch the two run back into the arena.

Calder chuckled. “I’ve got twenty that says Tim catches up and busts his chops.”

“I’ll take that bet,” Alex said. Other guys got in on the action. They made Fischer keep the tally.

“I’m surprised they have the energy,” someone said.

Calder gave a mental amen to that. The Sharks were a tough, physical team. More than one Barracuda came off the ice banged up and needing attention from the trainers.

A couple of minutes later, Melinda, the team service manager, boarded the bus, took one look at them crowded against the windows and asked, “What are we all looking at?”

Alex pointed. “That.”

Mac had burst out of a different door and was sprinting for the bus. Tim was about twenty feet behind and losing steam. Calder cursed, as did all the guys who’d bet on Tim. Mac hopped onto the bus, panting and sweating and edging around Melinda to head for the back.

By the time Tim got back on, he appeared to have cooled off. The rage that had reddened his face before was no longer there, but he pointed a stiff finger at Mac. “When you least expect it, fucker.”

Mac just laughed.

“All right, fun’s over,” Melinda said. “Settle down, children.”

Tim flopped into a seat across the aisle from Calder, who handed him his water bottle.

“Thanks,” Tim said after guzzling about a third of it. “You’d think he’d be more out of shape from standing in net all the time.”

“You have to admit it was a pretty good prank,” Calder said.

Taking another swig, Tim shook his head. “Not quite there yet. Give me a couple of hours.”

“When’s she due again?”

“Within the next month. I’ve never been so on edge. This road trip just about killed me. I can’t sleep because I’m worrying she’s going to have the baby without me.”

“Maybe you’ll get lucky and she’ll have it the day after we make the Finals.”

“Amen, brother.” Tim smiled. “But you know what? I got lucky the day I met her. Everything else is just gravy.”

Clearing his throat, Calder said in a lower voice, “While we’re on the subject, I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

He looked around. No one seemed to be paying attention to them. Most of the guys were getting out their wallets, either to pay up or collect on the Tim vs. Mac bet. “I need some advice.”

“Sure, buddy.”

Ever since he had gotten back together with Becca, they’d shared with each other more and made time for themselves as a couple. Becca delegated more confidently with each day that passed and Calder was more understanding about her drive to be successful. As a result, Tim wasn’t the only one getting the eye rolls from the other guys on the team. Calder had been caught daydreaming about Becca so often, someone—probably Mac—had put a fake letter in his stall the other day that stated his man card had been revoked.

He and Tim had laughed about it. The two of them belonged to an exclusive club that the other guys wanted to join, no matter how much they mocked it. The only requirement for membership was to have found the woman of their dreams and Calder had definitely met that requirement. Now he wanted to make it official.

Fighting back the slight nausea he felt every time he thought about this particular subject, Calder said, “I think I’m finally...” Fuck. Suddenly his necktie felt too tight. He loosened it and tried again. “Becca and I...”

Tim nodded encouragingly.

“Give me a break,” Alex said, leaning forward. He was sitting directly behind Tim. “He wants to propose to her.”

“Damn it, Alex. Keep your voice down.” Calder twisted around in his seat. “How do
you
know, anyway?”

“Last night at dinner when I borrowed your phone to look up the name of that movie I was talking about, your browser was open to Forty-Nine Ways to Propose,” Alex said. “Should have been titled Forty-Nine
Stupid
Ways to Propose.”

“Well, I can help you think of a good way.” Tim grinned and he puffed out his chest. “Because I got a couple of internet awards for
my
proposal, in case you didn’t know.”

“Holly, the whole world fucking knows that,” Jason Locke called from a couple of rows forward.

“Yeah, I think the President announced it at a White House presser.” That came from defenseman Dustin DeVries.

Even though his personal life was now front and center, Calder laughed along with everyone else. Tim stood up and jovially flipped the bird to the entire bus. “And fuck all of you very much. You’re all just jealous.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Alex said. “Ever since I was a kid, I’ve wanted to be elected the Most Romantic Asshole by seven jillion internet idiots who have nothing better to do than vote on shit like that.”

Tim placed his hand over Alex’s face and pushed him back into his seat. “Like I said. Jealous.” Sitting back down, he nodded to Calder. “Now, do you think Becca wants something flashy and public?”

Slowly, Calder shook his head. “She’s not big on flash.”

Alex leaned forward again, apparently determined to participate in the conversation. “Yes, she is. At Tim’s wedding she was the fucking Lady in Red.”

“But she did that for me, not because she wanted to be flashy.”

“Then go the meaningful and intimate route,” Tim said.

“Yeah. I think that’s more our style. The issue with us has always been finding time, away from hockey and Cups, so it makes sense for me to do it when we’re all alone.”

“So, maybe not a restaurant either.”

“No.”

“You could find out what her favorite movie proposal is and reenact it,” DeVries suggested from a couple of rows down. “Like can you play the guitar? That
Wedding Singer
proposal was pretty good.”

“I can’t sing,” Calder said.

“No kidding,” Mac muttered.

“Well, there are a ton of other movies that had good proposals,” Alex said. “There’s
Harry Met Sally
. There’s
Gone with the Wind
. That’s a classic. Rhett Butler’s like a take-charge guy in that one, but he sort of has to be because Scarlett’s such a bitch. She’s a hot bitch, but she’s a bitch. On the other hand, in
The Ten Commandments
, Rameses sort of decreed Nefretiri was going to be his wife.” He chuckled. “He was a real prick about it, saying whenever he wanted to fuck her, he’d just pretty much snap his fingers and she’d have to come to him whether she liked it or not.”

“That’s cold,” Tim said.

Alex went on, “Then there’s
The Proposal
, really aptly named. That movie had two proposals. But my favorite’s gotta be
Sense and Sensibility
where when he drops the bomb, all the girl can do is cry her eyes out. She can’t even fucking talk, she’s so freaked out.” Alex’s chuckle died away as he realized he’d silenced the entire bus. Everyone was speechless at Alex’s knowledge of cinematic romance. “What?” he asked. “I like movies.”

“Sully,” Hart said, “you sure you’re not gay? Because even
I
can’t name that many movie proposals.”

Before Alex could reply, Locke said, “You know what I think? Save yourself a lot of money and heartache and don’t get married at all.”

Calder exchanged a look with Tim and Alex but none of them said anything. Locke’s bitter pronouncement effectively stopped the discussion, but Calder decided he should come up with his own idea anyway.

* * *

Becca hadn’t been able to eat all day. She hadn’t slept much either. She was too excited. Tonight she and Calder were attending a gala celebrating the grand opening of Chef Anson Lau’s first restaurant on the West Coast.

So much had happened since she’d gotten out of the hospital six months ago. It had all started when she’d called Lau to ask about taking on partners. She’d hoped for a little advice, a few minutes of his time. What she got was a mentor who guided her through the entire process and made himself available to her with a generosity that took her by surprise. Talking with him was like taking a class on building a restaurant empire, and she’d soaked in everything he had to say. As a result, she had a projected, detailed plan in place for opening another Cups within the next three years and a bottom line that continued to grow, week after week. She and her partners, Tim, Alex and Hart, had high hopes for the summer, when San Diego enjoyed a healthy influx of tourists.

She’d also found out Gerald Quincey, the owner of Donuts ‘N’ More, had set the fire in an attempt to collect insurance money. His business had dropped off so much that he got desperate. She ended up feeling a little sorry for him, but Calder had been furious when they’d gotten the news.

“He could have killed or injured a lot of innocent people. For money!”

“Money makes people do horrible things.”

“No, it doesn’t. People do horrible things like that on their own. Money may have motivated him, but it didn’t make him set the fire.”

Becca reluctantly agreed. She’d never really gotten along with Gerald, but she felt sorry for his wife. She hadn’t been charged and so might not have known what Gerald had been up to.

“You almost ready?” Calder asked from the bedroom.

In the master bathroom, she twisted the cap on her mascara and put it away. “Yes.”

After one last look in the mirror, she walked out of the bathroom to be rewarded with a slack-jawed stare followed by a wolf whistle.

“You look amazing,” he said, his gaze sweeping up and down her figure.

She had gotten a new red dress for the occasion. The one she’d worn to Tim and Erin’s wedding had burned in the fire. At Calder’s suggestion, she’d gone with Savannah to a very expensive shop where they found a gorgeous gown appropriate for a Hollywood premiere. It was strapless with a narrow silhouette. The taffeta knotted at her waist and flowed downward artfully to the floor. It cost a frighteningly large amount of money that Calder insisted was a nonissue.

“Since I paid for it, technically, it belongs to me.” He said this with narrowed eyes and a mischievous smile and a disarming kiss.

“You know,” she said in a mock warning tone, “you really need to stop saying that. It only gets you in trouble.”

“Am I in trouble?”

“Technically, no, because, for your information, I didn’t use your credit card.
I
paid for the dress.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “You did?”

“Yes. Remember when I did the food for Erin’s baby shower? She insisted on paying me. Too much.”

“Impossible. Your food is worth millions.” He smiled.

The compliment warmed her heart. She was used to people enjoying her food. It happened dozens of times a day and it always brought her pleasure. But when Calder exclaimed over her roast chicken or her scampi pasta, she felt a glow of contentment deep inside.

She adjusted his necktie. “Somebody’s getting lucky tonight.”

His smile got bigger. That made her happy too.

Ever since the Barracudas had failed to advance to the Stanley Cup Finals for the second year in a row, Calder had been upset and disappointed. He’d confided to Becca afterward that he’d hoped he, Hart and Tim might have made the difference because the season before, Hart had been playing for Seattle, and Tim and Calder had been out with injuries. But again, the team had been stopped one series short of the Finals.

It bothered her that she could do little to ease his frustration. He and his teammates were the only ones who could do that—by getting to the Finals next season. The one thing she did was make sure he knew she had faith in him and encourage him, something her parents had never done for her. While cold expectation got results, it did nothing to foster love.

“You’ll show them all next season,” she’d told him. “You guys will get your shit together at training camp and blow everyone out of the water. That’s what top-six guys do, right? And you’re a top-six guy.”

He’d shrugged, still sullen, but she sensed a smile lurking under the gloom. He liked being reminded that this season had been the best of his career.

As the days passed, and especially after the Cup had been awarded, his tension and frustration seemed to ease. He began letting go of the disappointment and shifting toward enjoying his off-season, resting and recharging until training camp in September.

Unfortunately, for her there was no concrete “off-season.” She was gearing up for the second half of Cups’ first year in business. It was a constant battle to balance her relationship with her work, and now that Calder had almost nothing but leisure time, it became even more difficult. But damn it, she did it. She’d actually anticipated the need for more time away from the restaurant and promoted Dominique on Savannah’s recommendation. She and Savannah had talked about grooming her for managing the Paseo Loco location when they opened the second Cups in the future. So far, so good.

Calder walked in a slow circle around her. “That dress is my favorite item of clothing ever. It should be in the Clothing Hall of Fame, you know what I mean?”

She laughed.

“But,” he said, stroking his chin, “there’s something missing.”