Chapter 2

Quinn was thinking the same thing.

What the hell was Rockford James doing standing in front of her? And offering to fill in as the pirate at her son’s birthday party, no less.

But the righteous indignation was hers to carry, and she held up a hand to her brother. “Rock gave me a ride home. That stupid car broke down again, and I would have had to walk the whole way if he hadn’t stopped to give me a lift.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“I forgot my phone.”

He gave a grudging nod to Rock. “Well, we’ve got it from here. Thanks.” He pulled the screen door open, then turned back and mumbled, “Sorry to hear about your head. That guy was an asshole.”

She felt Rock stiffen beside her. He obviously didn’t like to talk about it. But she was glad to see her brother being civil—maybe this could be the start of a truce between the Rivers and James families. She tried to keep a light tone in her voice. “Rock is coming to the party. He’s going to help out by filling in as the other pirate.”

Her brother raised an eyebrow, then shook his head, any remnants of a truce disappearing behind his scowl. “Like hell he is. We don’t need another pirate. And we dang sure don’t need his help.”

Leaving the bike on the porch, she automatically reached for Rock’s hand and pulled him up the stairs. “Too bad. He’s staying. Max wants a pirate, and I’m giving him a pirate.” The nerve of her brother, telling her what to do. She fought to hold back the eye roll. He was only two years older than she was, but she’d always be his baby sister. Annoying.

It wasn’t until they had stepped onto the porch that she realized she was holding Rock’s hand. The shock of touching his skin and having her hand in his after all these years took her breath away. His fingers curled around hers, making her hyperaware of the wall of male standing next to her.

“You heard the lady,” Rock said with a smirk.

She led him through the house and into her bedroom, where the other costume was. It was strange having him in her room again.

He looked around with interest. “Wow, you’re still in your old bedroom. You’ve changed it up though. Got rid of the pom-poms and the boy band posters.”

Pushing the door shut with her foot, she dropped his hand as if it were on fire. “That’s because I’m an adult now. And a mom. I have my own boy, and he’s the one I cheer for.”

Memories of Rock being in this room with her flooded her mind, and her heart ached at flashes of recollection. Lying on the floor as they listened to music or worked on homework, curled on her bed kissing and touching in the frantic way that teenagers discover each other. The pictures in her head were as clear as if they had happened yesterday.

But they hadn’t. She pushed the memories away—back into the spaces where she kept them, sealed off so they couldn’t hurt her. That was the past. She needed to focus on the present, on Max and the birthday party that was going to start any minute now.

She pointed to the pirate costume laid out across her bed. The outfit consisted of a thin muslin shirt, a faux leather vest, and a pair of brown, striped pants. A long scarf served as a belt, with a black hat and a sword completing the costume.

“You can put that on. The guests will be here anytime, so we’ve got to be ready. If the pants don’t fit, just wear your jeans.” She glanced at his thighs, thick and muscular from years of ice skating. “Yeah, you should probably just wear your jeans.”

He chuckled as he reached for the hem of his T-shirt and tugged it over his head.

She sucked in her breath.

Holy hot cowboy. The guy’s chest was a solid mass of muscle.

The last time she’d seen him without a shirt, they’d been teenagers. He wasn’t a teenager now. He was a man with a man’s body.

The muscles in his arms flexed as he tossed the shirt onto the bed, and she almost choked at the size of them. He had the body of an athlete, toned and firm. A tattoo of his team’s logo covered the top part of his right arm. She hadn’t known he’d gotten a tattoo.

She didn’t really know anything about him anymore. Just the bits of gossip around town and the occasional stories she heard about him from his family or on one of the sports channels on TV. She wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, but she’d seen several of his games, watching him when he was on the ice and searching the player’s box for glimpses of him when he wasn’t.

She tried to look away but was mesmerized by his body, so foreign yet so familiar. Her gaze traveled over him, discovering new scars and marks that hadn’t been there before, that he must have earned in his years on the ice.

His hair was still a little too long, curling along his neck, but it had darkened to a dirty-blond color, and his eyes were still the same greenish blue. She’d always thought they were the same color as the pond they learned to swim in, a mixture of the shades, depending on his mood or what color clothes he was wearing.

There were so many new things about him, yet he still felt like the same guy that she’d grown up with—the one who’d shown her how to ride a horse, who’d tutored her in chemistry, and who had taught her how to French kiss. And he’d been quite a teacher.

He reached for the shirt on the bed, turning slightly, and she gasped at the mass of ugly purple bruising down the side of his rib cage. She reached out as if to touch him, heard his sharp intake of breath as her fingers barely skimmed his side, and quickly dropped her hand.

“Is that from the—” She didn’t want to bring up the fight again. Apparently, she didn’t have to.

A scowl settled on his face, and he swiped at the discoloration as if to wipe it away. “Yeah, I guess. It’s no big deal though—just a few bruises. We’re always getting banged up. These are already starting to fade.”

They didn’t look like they were starting to fade. But the subject obviously made him uncomfortable, so she let it go and concentrated on a problem that had just surfaced in her mind. “They didn’t send along any boots or shoes.”

He pulled the shirt over his head. It was snug, hugging his muscled chest and stretching over his thick upper arms. “My boots will do fine.”

She glanced down at his leather, square-toed cowboy boots. “A pirate wearing cowboy boots?” Oh geez—that sounded kind of hot, especially when the cowboy/pirate was Rock.

Stop it. This was the man who’d broken her heart—who’d left her behind. She wasn’t about to fall victim to his charming grin and a few well-toned muscles.

He tugged on the vest and picked up the long, red scarf, a baffled look on his face. “What do I do with this?”

“You tie it around your waist. Like a belt.” She sighed at his blank look and took the scarf. Sliding her arms around him, she wrapped the scarf around his waist and tied it in a knot at his hip. Her hands shook a little as they brushed over his hard abs, their solidness visible through the thin shirt.

Taking a step back, she picked up the sword from the bed and passed it to him. They needed to get out of her bedroom. She could try to push the memories away, but the ghosts of them as a couple—as young lovers—were thick. As if their souls were floating in the air, taking up all the space and making it hard for her to breathe.

The sound of a truck coming up the driveway pulled Quinn from her thoughts. Thank goodness. The guests were starting to arrive.

The door of her room burst open, and Max rushed in. “Mom! Mom! They’re here! Come on! The party is starting!” He grabbed her arm and pulled, then stopped when he caught sight of Rock.

He pushed his small glasses up his nose and grinned at her. Her heart did that gushy mom thing it did every time her son smiled because she’d gotten something exactly right. “You found a pirate.”

That smile on her son’s face made every awkward moment with Rock worth it. “Yep, this is Captain…um…James.” That was original. She gave Rock a small shrug of her shoulders, hoping he would play along. “He sailed the seven seas to be here for your birthday party today.”

Max’s eyes widened as he looked at Rock. “You’re a pretty big pirate,” he whispered.

Rock puffed out his chest and lowered his voice, affecting a deep, pirate accent. “Aye. That’s from spending so much time working aboard me ship, matey. I heard some scallywag named Max was having a party, and I thought I’d stop by for some rum.” He glanced up at Quinn. “Er, I mean some grog. You got any grog, boy, or am I going to have to make you swab the poop deck?”

“You said ‘poop.’” Max dissolved into giggles as Rock wielded his plastic sword in the air. “You’re funny.”

He was funny. Was he seriously still doing a pirate voice?

She tried to keep from laughing, but the sound of Max’s giggles was too much. Shaking her head, she looked down at her son. “Why don’t you go say hello to your guests, and I’ll try to find the Captain here some grog.”

“Okay, Mom.” Max offered Rock a wave, then raced from the room. “See ya later, Captain James.”

“Nice work, matey,” she said, trying to mimic his accent as she held the door for him. “You think you can keep it up long enough to entertain a dozen hyper eight-year-olds?”

“Aye. I love a challenge.” He crossed the room, stopping behind her and lowering his voice as he leaned closer to her ear. “And might I add, ye’ve got the finest pirate booty I’ve ever laid me eyes on.”

She raised an eyebrow, trying to hold in a laugh. “Are you seriously flirting with me using pirate lingo?”

He winked and gave her a sharp nod of his head. “Aye, me beauty. Would you like to shiver me timbers?”

Her eyes widened, but even he couldn’t hold a straight face for that one, and they busted out laughing.

It had been a long time since they’d laughed like that together.

It felt good. Right.

He held up his hands in surrender. “Sorry. That one went too far. It sounded better in my head.”

“Keep that up, and you’re gonna be the one walking the plank.” She tried to sound gruff but couldn’t quite pull it off. With a slow smile, she turned and headed for the kitchen, ignoring the butterflies careening around in her stomach at the fact that not only was Rock in her bedroom again, but he was flirting with her—and she kind of liked it.

Three hours, seventeen cupcakes, and three water-balloon fights that Rock instigated later, she sank onto the bench seat of the picnic table.

He dropped down next to her and pulled off his pirate hat. The scent of his aftershave wafted around her, and his thigh came dangerously close to touching hers. His hair was tousled from the hat and the warm day, and she had the strongest urge to reach out and smooth it down.

Her dad and Max had left to take the last of the kids home, and the scent of grilled hot dogs and sunscreen lingered in the air.

She’d thought her dad would have a coronary when he saw Rock at the party, but she told him he was doing it for Max and to chill out. Ham had grunted, and the two men had mainly stayed out of each other’s way.

“Wow. You were right. Eight-year-olds are tough.” He puffed out a breath, sounding more like he’d gone into triple overtime instead of wrangling up a group of rowdy children.

“You were pretty great with them.” Surprisingly great. She’d had no idea he could work a crowd like that. He was funny and charming, and he’d had the kids and half of the parents eating out of his hand. Especially the moms.

One of the kid’s moms fell all over herself trying to help Rock pass out the cupcakes.

And speaking of falling, if Carolyn Parker had displayed any more of her cleavage, her boobs would have popped right out of her top. Not very becoming of the PTA president and self-professed “room mom.”

The moms were bad enough, preening around Rock, but the dads were just as ridiculous, trying to act cool and buddy up with him. So what if he was a famous hockey player and on television? He was still the same guy that half of them had gone to school with. Why were they treating him like such a celebrity?

Because he was. He wasn’t just some hockey player. He was Rockford James, the star, the hockey-playing cowboy and a major player on the Colorado team. A team he was going back to, she reminded herself.

“They were fun.” Rock’s deep voice rumbled through her and dragged her out of her musings. “And I do have some skills.” He nudged her leg and cocked an eyebrow. “But I do my best work when I’m not in front of a crowd.”

She shook her head, the start of a smile tugging at her lip. “You’re awful.”

“Awful handsome for a pirate, you mean?” He flashed her one of his charming grins, teasing her as he bumped her leg with his again, then leaving his knee lightly against hers.

She could feel the heat of his skin, even through his jeans. The cotton texture of the denim rubbed against her bare leg, causing her earlier butterflies to return, swooping and swirling wildly in her belly.

Was he flirting with her? Or just laying on the charm like he’d been doing all afternoon with the other guests? Ugh. The very thought of him flirting with Carolyn Parker made her stomach go sour.

What was that about?

Actually, she knew what it was about.

The green-eyed monster was rearing its ugly head, and she didn’t like it. Not one bit. She wasn’t usually jealous. But who would she have to be jealous of? So much of her life was spent focused on her role as a mom: laundry, bath time, making lunches, tucking Max in at night, and reading books with him. So many books. That kid loved to read and loved being read to.

She didn’t have time to think about men or flirting. Not until now, when she had Rock James sitting in front of her, the ridiculously cute guy she’d loved for half of her life, the one whose leg now pressed snugly against hers as he’d somehow moved even closer.

And the one who had torn her heart to shreds when he’d broken up with her.

No matter how cute and charming he was, there was still that.

She sighed. “What are you doing here, Rock?”

His playful grin fell, but before he had a chance to answer, her brother walked up holding a chocolate cupcake and leaned his hip against the edge of the picnic table next to her.

“Looks like you two were the hit of the party,” Logan said. “Your picture will probably make tomorrow’s news as the pirate couple of the year.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked.

“Didn’t you see Carolyn Parker taking pictures of you guys? I’m sure you’ll be in tomorrow’s edition of the Creedence Chronicle. She just got hired on there and is trying to start some new section like the society pages. I’ll wager that you’ll be her feature story.” He peeled back the wrapper of the cupcake and took a bite. “Unless she sells the pictures to that reporter who was lurking out front earlier,” he said around a mouthful of cake.

Rock’s head snapped up. “What reporter?”