Wicked Games (Denver Rebels) (41 page)

“I know,” Reid said darkly. “Avery and Aria already warned me.”

Ryder frowned, shaking his head. “I don’t get it. I know Mom’s not a racist, but she seems really bothered about you having a black girlfriend.”

Reid sighed. “It’s because of Hanh.”

“Dad’s girlfriend?”

“Yeah. Remember how upset Mom was when Dad started dating her last year? The fact that he had a girlfriend was hard enough on Mom. But she felt even more rejected when she met Hanh and saw how different she was from her. Hanh’s Vietnamese, looks exotic, has a great career
and
she’s twenty years younger than Dad. Mom took one look at her and saw everything she’s not. She really took it personal, and now she’s projecting those same insecurities onto Nadia.”

“Damn. That’s fucked up.” Ryder gave him a sympathetic look. “Sucks to be you.”

“Tell me about it,” Reid muttered.

“Have you told Nadia how Mom feels?”

“Hell, no. She wouldn’t have agreed to come this weekend if she knew.”

Ryder grimaced. “Avery said she’s gonna talk to Mom, make sure she’s on her best behavior.”

“I appreciate that,” Reid said grimly. “I really don’t want to put her in her place, but I will if I have to.”

“I wouldn’t blame you.” Ryder downed a swig of beer, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “For what it’s worth, at least Nadia will get a warm reception tonight from the welcome committee you’re sending. Av and Ari are excited about meeting her.”

“I know,” Reid said with a soft smile. Thank God for his sisters.

“I gotta work tonight, but I can’t wait to meet her.” Ryder flashed a wide grin. “I have to bow at the feet of the Nubian goddess who’s got my brother so fucking whipped he doesn’t know up from down.”

Reid chuckled. “I’m not whipped.”

Hearing the lack of conviction in his voice, Ryder laughed and mimed cracking a whip, complete with sound effects.

Reid flipped him off, which only made Ryder laugh harder.

Just then they heard the front door open and close, followed by the deep rumble of their father’s voice calling out, “Hello? You boys home?”

“In the kitchen, Dad,” they called back. The Holdens were so close that they had keys to one another’s homes.

A few moments later, Roark Holden walked through the kitchen doorway.

“Hey, fellas, how ya doing?” He gave Ryder a quick hug and then pulled back, his nose wrinkling in distaste. “Why do you smell like you just dove into a vat of two-dollar perfume?”

Reid and Ryder laughed.

“It’s a parting gift from his date,” Reid drawled humorously.

“Really?” Roark frowned, shaking his head. “Can’t trust a woman who douses herself in that much perfume. A woman’s natural essence is the best aphrodisiac.”

“Amen,” Reid agreed, thinking of Nadia’s deliciously intoxicating scent.

He stood as his father came around the center island and gave him one of his big bear hugs, clapping him warmly on the back before pulling away to cup his cheek in his large palm.

“Good to see you, son.”

Reid grinned. “You too, Dad.”

Roark Holden was tall and strikingly handsome with broad shoulders and a lean, muscular physique he’d fastidiously maintained years after his hockey playing days were over. His thick hair had gone completely silver, and his eyes were the same piercing shade of blue he’d passed down to his sons. With his commanding height and distinguished good looks, he drew admiring stares wherever he went.

He looked between Reid and Ryder with an expression of deep pride and satisfaction. “It’s always good to have my boys back together.”

“Sure, Dad.” Ryder grinned, backing toward the doorway. “Hate to cut the reunion short, but I need to grab some breakfast and then hit the gym.”

Reid chuckled, sitting back down on the stool. “Don’t pick up any more Kelseys.”

Ryder laughed and flipped him the bird before heading off to his room to change.

Roark rubbed his big hands together. “I need a drink. Want one?”

“I’m good.” Reid held up the bottle of beer. “I have practice tonight.”

“Oh, that’s right.” His father disappeared into the butler’s pantry to pour himself a scotch on the rocks, his poison of choice. Since retiring from Ford, he’d been retained as a consultant to the company, a cushy gig with plenty of perks.

“Has your agent heard from the folks at Rocket Fiber?” he called out above the clinking sounds of ice and glass.

“Rocket Fiber?” Reid repeated blankly.

“Yeah. You know, that ultra-high-speed Internet service they launched for downtown and Midtown. I heard they’re interested in hiring you as a spokesman. It’s a clever marketing idea since your nickname’s The Rocket and you’re from Detroit. Getting The Rocket to endorse Rocket Fiber would be brilliant, a stroke of genius. So Kyle hasn’t mentioned anything?”

“Nah,” Reid said.

His father walked out of the butler’s pantry. “They probably wouldn’t be able to offer you as much as Nike and Gatorade. At least not yet. But I’m sure you could negotiate a deal that’s good enough to make it worth your while.” He took a sip of his scotch, then hummed a thoughtful note. “Maybe I should give Kyle a call—”

Reid chuckled. “No need, Dad. He’ll call me if he hears from anyone. He always does.”

“I know. Sorry.” Roark smiled sheepishly. “You know how I am. I’ve always been hands-on with your career.”

“I know. It’s okay.” Reid tipped back his bottle and drained the rest of his beer, then set the empty bottle down on the counter.

“So let’s see. You’re up to five endorsement deals now, right?” Roark ticked them off on his fingers. “Nike, Gatorade, Ford, Bauer and Goodyear. At the rate you’re going, you’ll catch up with Viggo in no time.”

“Doubtful.” Reid gave a dry chuckle. “But you’ve always cared more about that than I have.”

“Endorsement deals are important. That’s a source of revenue you’ll be earning years after you’ve retired from playing hockey. And you can invest some of that money in our sports bars.”

Reid grunted a reply.

His father chuckled, looking rueful. “But I know you didn’t call me over here to discuss business matters. That’s why you have a financial planner.” Sipping his scotch, Roark sat on the stool next to Reid. “So what’s on your mind, son? You said you had something to tell me. By the way, Hanh really wanted to see you. She didn’t understand why we couldn’t meet at my house instead of your brother’s.”

“I know,” Reid said apologetically. “I’ll see her at the game on Saturday.”

“Well, no, actually, you’ll see her tomor—”

“No, I won’t.”

Roark frowned, setting down his glass. “What do you mean?”

“That’s actually what I wanted to discuss with you.” Reid met his father’s quizzical gaze. “I don’t want you to bring Hanh to dinner tomorrow night.”

Roark’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

“I’d prefer that you leave her at home.”

“Why the hell would I do that?”

“Because I’m asking you to.”

“Why?”

Reid bit back an impatient sigh. “C’mon, Dad. You know how hard it is for Mom to see you with other women.”

Roark’s jaw tightened, his hand clenching around his glass. “No one’s stopping her from seeing other—”

“Don’t go there.” Reid’s voice was low, barely above a growl. “Don’t fucking go there, Dad. Not now. Not today.”

Anger vibrated between father and son. Anger sharpened by the pain of past grievances.

After several tense moments, Roark dragged an unsteady hand through his silvered hair and exhaled a frustrated breath. “I just don’t see why—”

“I’m bringing Nadia home to meet the family,” Reid cut him off. “It’s going to be stressful enough for her without the added tension between you and Mom and your girlfriend.”

Roark looked indignant. “So you get to bring your girlfriend around the family, but
I
can’t?”

Reid stared at his father, gritting his teeth to control his surging anger. “Do it for me, Dad. If not for the mother of your children, do it for me.”

Roark held his stony gaze for a strained moment, then scrubbed a hand across his jaw and nodded tersely. “Fine. I won’t bring Hanh.”

Reid inclined his head. “Thank you.”

Roark waved off his gratitude. “It’s probably for the best. I heard your mother’s not too happy about your relationship with Nadia. There’s no telling what she’s liable to say or do over dinner.”

Reid winced. “Thanks for that comforting thought.”

His father gave a grim chuckle, then expelled a heavy breath and looked down at his glass. After a reflective moment, he raised his head. Deep blue eyes searched Reid’s.

“So you’re really serious about this young lady?”

Reid gave a slow nod. “I am.”

“I see.” Roark lifted his glass, took a sip of his scotch. “I understand she works as a recruiter at some community college. That’s quite a coup for her, landing a rich hockey player. Talk about an upgrade.”

“I know what you’re getting at, Dad,” Reid said sardonically. “She’s not a gold digger.”

“How can you be so sure of that?”

“Because I am. I know her.” He’d given Nadia his platinum card and she’d refused to use it, not even to buy gas. He didn’t know any woman who would have showed that kind of restraint. Most women would have wasted no time burning through the card, racking up on extravagant frivolities. But Nadia hadn’t spent a dime.

His father fixed a steady gaze on him. “You have a robust investment portfolio, perfect credit, millions in the bank from your salary and endorsement deals and memorabilia contracts. Just think about that for a moment. Think of all that money you’ve earned and diligently saved up over the years. If you marry Nadia and things don’t work out, half of your wealth will go to her.”

Reid shook his head. “I’m not thinking that far ahead, Dad—”

“Maybe you should be. If you’re planning to propose to her—and I suspect you are—you’d better have an airtight prenup ready.”

Reid frowned. “If Nadia agrees to marry me—”

“
If?
”

Reid ignored his father’s sarcasm. “If and when we do get married, I’m not going into it with the jaded mindset that we’re going to break up. I’m not marrying her with one eye on the nearest exit. I’m playing for keeps, Dad. I plan to spend the rest of my life with her, raising a family, growing old together, watching our children and grandchildren come into their own.” He paused, his chest squeezing with longing for a future he’d never dreamed of before he met Nadia.

“As for my money,” he continued, his voice husky with emotion, “what’s mine is hers. In fact, I plan to give her the sun, moon and stars after we get married. It’s the least I can do for the woman I love, the woman who taught me that there’s even more to life than hockey.”

When he’d finished speaking, his father gave him a marveling look and slowly shook his head. “My God, son. I’ve never seen you this way over a woman before.”

“I’ve never
felt
this way,” Reid said gruffly. “Nadia means the world to me, Dad. I almost lost her once before. I won’t make that mistake again.”

For a moment his father’s gaze flickered with pain and regret. But a second later, a mask slid over his expression as if that moment, that flash of vulnerability, had never happened.

But Reid knew it had. And he knew all too well the source of his father’s suffering.

Quietly sipping his scotch, Roark stared off into the distance. “I wasn’t good enough to make the pros. But you were, son. And you didn’t just make it into the NHL. You came in guns blazing, determined to leave your mark and carve out your place in history. And you have. Everyone agrees that you’ve already made a tremendous impact on professional hockey. If you stay healthy, you can play for several more years. But it goes even beyond what you’ve accomplished on the ice, Reid. You’ve got what it takes to transcend the game, to leave a lasting legacy in this world.” Roark’s expression softened, becoming almost wistful. “As much as I try not to live vicariously through you, there’s a part of me that always will. So I guess I don’t want to see you taking any risks that will jeopardize the dream. Yours…and mine.”

Reid was silent, staring down at the black marble counter. Not for the first time, he felt the weight, the responsibility, the burden of being his father’s son, savior and last best hope.

After a while, Roark turned his head and studied Reid for a long moment, his expression astute and assessing. “So she’s really the one, huh?”

“Yes, sir. She is.”

His father’s large hand settled on his shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry about your mother. Everything’s gonna be all right.”

“I know,” Reid said with quiet conviction. “As long as I have Nadia by my side, nothing else matters.”

His father’s face softened.

After another moment he smiled and reached up, ruffling Reid’s hair the way he’d done when he was a little boy.

“Can’t wait to meet her, son. Can’t wait.”