BREAKAWAY (The Dartmouth Cobras) (8 page)

BOOK: BREAKAWAY (The Dartmouth Cobras)
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"True, but let's not take any chances. Tell me what you've done. I promise, I won't even raise my voice."

She snorted. "You
never
raise your voice. You don't have to."

He grinned and drew her hands away from her face to kiss her knuckles. "Well then, what are you afraid I'll do? Really, Silver, you haven't been at the office long enough to cause any trouble. Did you confront Ford again? One would figure, after two hundred lines of 'I will avoid the asshole who shares my DNA', you would know better."

Her shoulders hunched. She didn't even accuse him of giving her carpal tunnel syndrome as she had the last few times he'd threatened to use the same punishment. "This has nothing to do with Ford. It's about Jami."

Releasing her hands, he straightened and took two quick steps away from her. Clenched his jaw. Counted to ten in his head. Did his best to keep his promise not to raise his voice. His tone came out level, but rough. "Why would I be angry about anything involving Jami? You swore to me you would never try to handle anything concerning my daughter without consulting me first."

Silver whispered something.

He took a deep breath. Let it out very slowly. "Excuse me? I didn't catch that."

"She asked me not to say anything until she has a chance to talk to you herself."

Hooking his fingers behind his neck, he paced to the window, staring out as he spoke. "She's been back less than a week. Please tell me she's not doing drugs again, Silver. If you kept that from me—"

"No! Oh no, Dean, it's nothing like that!" The chair scrapped the floor as Silver stood and he watched her cautious approach through the reflection in the window. "It's nothing bad, not really. I think she wanted to surprise you, but with the pictures I thought—"

He spun around and glared at her. "Pictures? What pictures?"

She winced and glanced at his desk. "Well . . . ."

He didn't wait for her to finish. Striding up to his desk, he looked over the folders his assistant, Bolleau, had left for him. He found one folder with the label 'Dartmouth Cobras Ice Girls', the only one with pictures inside it. He recalled Silver telling him Sebastian Ramos, one of the team's leading defensemen, acquired at the beginning of the season, had agreed to photo shoots with a few of the girls for a magazine. The Ice Girl tryout had been going on for months. How the hell could this have anything to do with Jami?

Spreading the photos out on his desk, he studied them carefully, avoiding the last few because he couldn't begin to face what he thought he'd seen. The first photos showed Ramos with a redhead perched on his lap. The next had him with blond twins, one under each arm. All appealing, all good for the team because, much as he hated to admit it, Silver's ideas of ramping up the team's appeal to the younger crowd had increased ticket sales and had networks showing more games in response to higher ratings.

He swallowed and pushed the other photos aside. Focused on the set with his little girl, dressed in a flimsy matching skirt and . . . fuck, that shirt barely covered her chest! His jaw ticked as he observed the way she clung to Ramos. The way she stared up at him.

And the hungry way the son-of-a-bitch stared back at his baby.

He finally managed words. "Why is my daughter wearing an Ice Girl uniform?"

Silver came up beside him and touched his forearm. "She wanted to try out."

"The tryouts ended last month. You told me we were down to a hundred hopefuls."

"Well . . . ." Silver fidgeted with one of the discarded photos. "One of the girls bowed out because she was accepted to a national figure skating team. When Jami showed interest, I
kinda
slipped her into the empty slot."

Resting his hands on the desk, he scowled at the pictures. "You knew very well I wouldn't like the idea."

"Dean, she's a big girl! And she wants to prove that she supports the team! Supports you!"

Jabbing at the photo with his finger, his calm demeanor snapped. "Like this?"

The office door swing open and hit the wall. Landon stormed in and immediately cut between him and Silver. "I can hear you two from the hall. I don't know what's going on, but someone better tell me now."

Dean had no patience for Landon's overprotective bullshit. He glared at the man he shared a woman, and a bed with. "This has nothing to do with you."

"As long as she's carrying my child, anything that might upset her has
everything
to do with me.”

"Where’s that fucking trust, Landon? Do you really think I’d do anything to jeopardize the baby?"

"It’s hard to trust you when you’re acting like a fucking psycho."

With a harsh laugh, Dean straightened and stepped up to the bigger man. A few inches taller, maybe fifty pounds heavier than him, yes, but he wasn't intimidated. If the young man needed to be pulled down a few notches, he was just the person to do it. "You need to back off."

Landon's eyes narrowed. "Make me."

Silver let out a heavy sigh and stepped between them, slapping both their chests. "Put away your clubs, boys. Dean, tell him why you're pissed off, then he can yell at me too."

If Silver is the one being sensible, we have a serious problem.
Dean shook his head and retreated a step. He and Landon were essentially on the same page, both trying to protect their children in a situation where they were pretty much helpless. Landon couldn't keep Silver in bubble wrap until she gave birth. And Dean couldn't control his adult daughter.

Of course, that didn't mean he couldn't make Silver pay for not telling him what Jami was up to. She'd promised not to keep anything from him regarding his daughter. She'd broken that promise.

Hopefully, Landon would agree that this was not acceptable.

He gestured from Silver to Landon. "You are perfectly capable of telling him yourself, pet."

Silver didn't say a word. She simply picked up one of the pictures and handed it to Landon.

Landon stared at the picture. Slapped it face-down on the desk as though just looking at it was wrong. He opened his mouth. Paced away from Silver. Paced back. Pointed at the chair behind the desk until she sat. Then turned to Dean. "Writing lines
ain’t
gonna
to cut it."

Dean inclined his head. "I agree."

"How the hell did Jami end up in the top one hundred?"

"Would you like to take a guess?"

"Mon
dieu
.
C'est
incroyable
!
Qu'est-ce
que
tu
penses
?" Landon slapped his hands on the desk. "Silver, you promised not to do this again!"

Impressive. The man, for once, seemed to have recalled that being pregnant didn't make Silver too delicate to be taken to task for her actions. Dean often let the man take the lead in punishments since Silver
was
carrying his baby, but Landon usually asked for suggestions since he had a hard time coming up with 'safe' punishments.

Dean had a very safe idea in mind and was pleased when Landon sighed and turned to him. "What do you suggest?"

"Speech restrictions for a week." He smiled when Silver gaped at him. "I will inform Oriana so she can keep an eye on her, but if she can't talk, she can't very well make any more bad decisions while we're gone."

"Works for me." Landon pulled Silver up from the chair and nuzzled her neck, whispering. "Before the punishment starts, tell me one last time that you love me so I can hold onto that while I'm trying to win every game for you."

Silver scowled. "Speech restriction? Screw that! I hate you both!"

"Such sweet last words." Dean touched her cheek, not feeling much pity with the image of his daughter draped all over the most dangerous man on the team sitting in front of him. Some would think his daughter hanging onto Scott Demyan, renowned, immoral playboy, would be worse, but Dean had seen Ramos in action. He could tempt a nun, or—unless he was getting pretty damn rusty in reading people—a saint.

Despite knowing this first hand, Silver had the audacity to give him a dirty look.

"You basically asked me to make sure Ramos stayed away from you because, even with two men who love you, he tempts you. And you've inadvertently
sicced
him on my daughter. Look at these pictures." He held one up, refusing to look at it again himself. "Do you really expect me to feel sorry for you?"

"No." She stared at the floor, looking utterly miserable. "But I am the primary owner of this team. How can I run it while you're gone if I can't talk?"

He did, finally, feel a bit of compassion. A very little bit. "I'm sure we can both agree Oriana can handle things while I'm gone?"

"She can. Better than me, we all know that." Silver ducked her head as her eyes
teared
. "You don't need to rub it in."

"I'm not, my little dragonfly." He smiled as the sadness faded from her eyes in response to his tender, personal nickname for her. "I tell you, almost daily, that you are one of the best things that has ever happened to this team. But that doesn't change what you've done. I don't break promises to you. Think about it. How would you feel if I put your son in the hands of a woman like . . . like Hayley? I can think of no other woman you are wary enough of to understand where I'm coming from."

He could see Silver chewing on that thought, probably thinking that Hayley, the journalist that attacked her in every article she wrote about the Cobras, would be about thirty years older than her son, which made the situation entirely different. But Silver was smart enough to get what he was saying. She would protect her child from anyone who would try to take advantage of him. And she knew, first hand, how dangerous Ramos could be to a girl as impressionable as his daughter.

 
"Sir, I'm sorry, I really am. I never thought Jami would be chosen for the pictures. Chantelle is awesome, more professional than any of the photographers we've had so far. I never expected her to choose Jami. Actually, she didn't. And I thought Jami would have a chance to tell you about wanting to be an Ice Girl herself."

"Wait." Dean glanced over at Landon. By his wide eyed stare, he'd caught it too. But Silver didn't seem to realize how horrendous what she'd just said was. "The photographer didn't choose my daughter?"

"No! She didn't know who she was until she mentioned it and I told her. All she said was Sebastian made a good . . . ." Silver cut herself off and covered her mouth with her hand. "Dean, I'm so sorry. I didn't even think about it. Oh, god. Sebastian
asked
for her. Specifically!"

"Shit." Landon wrapped his arms around Silver as though to protect her from her own ill thought out actions. He lifted his head and stared at Dean. "She knows she messed up. She knows she should be punished. I'm sure she accepts it. But she couldn't have expected that."

"No, I'm sure she didn't." Dean's jaw steeled as he gathered the photos and hid them in the folder so he wouldn't have to see them anymore. "But what are the chances that Ramos didn't know he was messing with my daughter?"

Landon paled. "Hey, man. It's not like we talk about her in the locker room."

"Are you saying he didn't know? That he thought she was just another cheerleader exposing herself for—" His throat clogged up. Jami wouldn't go that far. Not without someone urging her on. Sebastian had pushed her to do this. Either ignorant that she was his daughter or not really giving a fuck. His jaded self edged towards the latter. "Is the team really that disjointed, Landon? Is it possible he doesn't know she's my daughter?"

Squaring his shoulders, Landon moved away from Silver. "If he doesn't know now, he will shortly,
I
can promise you that."

"Thank you, Landon."

"Okay, you two need to back off." Silver folded her hands over her big belly and frowned at them both. "Jami won't thank you for getting involved."

"Silver," Dean tried to be as gentle as he could, considering his daughter was the center of the discussion and Silver just didn't get it. Silver's father hadn't cared enough to protect her from men like Ramos. Or even men like him. Of course, it was too late for that. "You do not have permission to speak. To me or anyone else. Landon supports my punishment. If you'd like to
safeword
out, do so now, otherwise be silent until we return and think about what you've done."

 
Silver's chin jutted up. "Yellow. We
will
discuss this before I start with the stupid speech restrictions. I should have told Jami, straight out, that she had to talk to you right away. I get that. But
you
have to respect that Jami is an adult. She did her time in rehab, your mom even agreed her getting involved in something like this would be good for her."

Oh, this just gets better and better.
He scratched his jaw and arched a brow at Silver. "My mother knows about this?"

"Yes." Silver smirked. "You
gonna
tell her off too?"

Landon snorted and Dean was tempted to punch him. Instead he straightened his tie and sighed. Punishing Silver for something his own mother had kept from him seemed ridiculous. As much as he hated the entire situation, there wasn't
much
he could do about it. As far as the women were concerned anyway. "I suppose I'm outnumbered then. Jami may continue the tryouts and I'll do my best to act surprised when she tells me."

"I'd appreciate that, but what about this thing with Sebastian? It's just a picture, Dean."

She knew him too well. "You can't honestly expect me not to—"

"Stay out of it? Yes, that's
exactly
what I expect you to do. You know Sebastian won't hurt her. You trusted him enough to make him a DM at the club."

"Monitoring scenes at the club is
much
different than . . . ." Damn it, than what exactly? He didn't even want to think about what Ramos would do with his daughter. He rubbed his eyes with his fingers and thumb. "At least, with the playoffs, he won't be around very often. But he may have a problem with the other players if they see him with her. Actually . . . ." He put his hand over the picture Landon had laid facedown and made a rough sound in his throat. "Seeing this might be enough to agitate a few of them. Many still see her as a little girl."

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