Chapter 20—In the Crease

Close to noon, Brick pulled to the curb across the road from his childhood home near Vancouver, British Columbia. He sat in the car and stared at the door for several minutes. His heart thudded in his chest, beating a rapid rhythm of fear and uncertainty. He wiped his clammy hands on his jeans for the tenth time and swiped at his sweaty brow despite the chilly temperature of his car.

His mom and stepdad knew he was coming, but he was early, and no one ever expected him to be early. He’d prepared himself for an argument when he’d called them two nights ago and hadn’t gotten one, which shocked the crap out of him. Neither of his parents had ever missed an opportunity to lecture him. His stepfather had merely said, “I’m proud of you, son,” while his mother had burst into tears. He’d apologized profusely for being such an ass, but she’d started laughing. They’d been tears of joy that he’d made the right decision. But they’d both warned him Macy may not be easy to convince of his good intentions.

Facing his daughter scared the snot out of him more than a team of enforcers. His fucking hands were even shaking.

This adulting shit was tough. It was taking every ounce of courage he had to go inside to beg for his little girl’s forgiveness. Coach had given him special permission to miss the day’s practice, and he hoped to God one day would be enough.

With one last rub of his towel to his brow, he opened the car door and got out. He trudged across the rain-splattered street and up the sidewalk, and knocked on the door, rather than barging inside as he normally would.

No one came to the door.

He knocked again.

Nothing.

His heart sank to his knees, and he reached for the back of a nearby porch bench to steady himself. The doorknob turned. He stood up straight and squared his shoulders, ready to face the firing squad, the gallows, or whatever form of punishment he justly deserved.

The door opened a crack and a pair of big brown eyes stared up at him.

“H-hey.” His voice cracked, and his eyes filled with unshed tears. “Can I come in?”

The door shut in his face. He stared at the wood grain as he heard the first crack in his heart as loud as a pistol shot. He would bleed out if she didn’t come back. He knocked again.

He waited a lifetime, long enough to run through everything he regretted in his twenty-six years, with Amelia and Macy tied for the top spot on that list.

The door swung open. He half expected to see his mother or stepfather on the other side. They weren’t. It was Macy. She hugged Simone to her and gazed up at him once again. She wore a little pink princess dress with sparkly pink shoes. Her hair was tied in a ponytail and secured with a matching pink hair tie.

“Can I come in?”

She sucked her lower lip into her mouth and considered his question, kicking the doormat with a toe. After a whispered consultation with Simone, she nodded solemnly. He followed her into the living room, where several dolls, including the fish he’d given her, sat around a small table set with miniature teacups. The fact that his parents were nowhere to be found wasn’t lost on him. They weren’t going to run interference or make this any easier. He needed to be a man and take his lumps.

“Could I join you?” His voice broke, and he cleared his throat. Those huge brown eyes regarded him with mistrust, making him feel like all kinds of an ass.

“I guess so.” She sighed wearily and took her seat in the tallest chair at the table, leaving him to sit on the floor or in a chair about a foot high, which he would surely break.

He sat down cross-legged and waited for her cue.

“You have to wear this.” She handed him a glitzy pink crown and donned one herself.

Without hesitation, he put the damn thing on his head and thanked God his teammates weren’t around or he’d be forever tortured in some manner involving princess crowns. It was too small and dug into his scalp, but that was a minuscule price to pay.

“I’m Princess Phoebe, you’re Prince Cumberdoodle.” She giggled and a smile lit up her face. He grinned back at her. He’d be Cinder-fucking-ella if that’s what it took.

“Better than being Princess Cumberdoodle,” he quipped, and was rewarded with another smile.

She poured imaginary tea into a tiny teacup that wouldn’t have held the shot of whiskey he so desperately needed right now. He followed her lead and pretended to sip from the cup.

“Not like that. Hold your pinkie out like this.”

“Okaaay.” He did as instructed, even though he could barely grasp the handle of the teacup with his big fingers.

She introduced him to every doll and stuffed animal at the table. He shook their hands or paws, which earned him another round of giggles. She gazed up at him with sparkling brown eyes so like his own and rubbed her chin as he often did when deep in thought. She was his daughter, his beautiful, sweet, sometimes shy, sometimes spunky daughter, who skated as though she was born on the ice and made lemonade out of all the lemons life had dealt her.

His heart leaped from his chest and groveled at her feet. Time for the rest of him to do the same.

“I bought the houseboat.”

Macy froze. Her chin set stubbornly. She rearranged her dolls around the table and poured more imaginary tea, not once looking up at him. Brick breathed in slowly and out slowly, attempting to calm himself.

The moment of truth had come.

“I thought you might like living there. I moved your dollhouse and stable in already. We could be in there by Christmas.” He held his breath, feeling sicker than he had before his first-ever NHL game, when he’d thrown up in the locker room in front of his teammates.

She poured another round of tea for the animals and dolls.

“We could get a big Christmas tree.”

Macy whispered something to Simone, still not looking at him.

“Macy,” he said shakily. “I love you, honey. I messed up. I want you to live with me.”

She raised her head, regarding him with suspicion. “Forever?”

“As long as you want.”

“My mommy died in a car accident. We were coming to see you.”

Oh, fuck. She knew? She’d never said a word. He resisted the urge wrap her in his arms and protect her from life’s harsh realities.

Not yet. Have patience.

“Granna said she was in heaven. What if you leave me again, too?”

“I won’t. I’m here to stay.”

“What about Meel?” She met his gaze, her eyes luminous with unshed tears.

“Meel, too.”

She picked at a chip on one of the cups and said nothing, while he experienced every painful symptom of an impending heart attack without having physical heart issues. He didn’t push her, even though the wait was pure agony.

Macy lifted Simone to her face and whispered in her ear, then listened and whispered some more. She returned Simone to her spot at the table. His little girl raised her head and met his gaze.

“Simone wants to live in a houseboat.”

His breath came out in a rush, but he wasn’t out of the woods yet. “She does? What about you? Do you want to live in a houseboat?”

“Yeah.”

He grinned like a man who’d been given the best gift money couldn’t buy. Macy smiled back, then she moved faster than Ice intercepting the puck in the Stanley Cup final. Catching him off guard, she threw herself at him, scattering dolls, stuffed animals, and teacups every direction. Brick caught her in his arms and hugged her tightly to him, as a lone tear escaped down his cheek.

“I love you, Daddy.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her head in his shoulder.

“I love you, too, Macy.” Maybe he didn’t deserve her love, but he’d work his ass off to earn it.

Glancing over her head, he spotted his parents standing in the doorway, beaming with approval.

He’d won the battle, but he still had a war to win.

 

* * * *

 

Something was up. Amelia knew a rat when she smelled one. Vi and Matt were up to no good. They’d been whispering to each other all day, rather than arguing, shutting up when she came into the room, and now this. They’d taken the boys and gone bowling, insisting she stay home and get some rest. She didn’t want rest. She wanted to keep her mind occupied and away from a hunky hockey player and his adorable daughter.

Her cell rang, and she frowned.

Brick.

It’d been a long time since he’d called.

She put the phone down and walked away.

She would not answer it.

They were over.

The phone rang again.

She froze, willing herself not to turn around, to be strong, to not fall prey to that pretty face and even prettier body.

The ringing stopped.

Amelia poured a glass of wine.

Her phone rang.

Okay, she couldn’t stand it. She dived for the phone and grabbed the little sucker, pressing the Answer button.

“WHAT?” she yelled into the phone.

“Meel?”

Amelia’s anger fled like a mouse fleeing a hungry alley cat. “Macy?”

“Yeah.” Macy spoke in a small, scared voice.

“Are you okay?”

“No.”

Amelia’s instincts went on red alert. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m scared.”

“Where are you? Where are your grandparents?”

“They’re gone. I’m at the houseboat.”

“The houseboat? The one on Lake Union?”

“Yes. Can you come get me?”

“Where’s Brick?”

“He ran to the store, and he’s been gone a long time.”

“I’ll be right there.”

She grabbed her keys and ran for the door. She was going to kill that man. Kill him. Even better, she’d castrate him or hang him by his balls. She didn’t understand why Macy was back in town, but she’d make sure he never left her alone again.

She drove like a crazy woman and made the ten-minute drive in five. She screeched into the parking lot, slammed into an empty spot, and leaped from the car. Amelia sprinted down the dock to the blue-and-white houseboat, not stopping long enough to wonder when Brick had bought it or if he’d bought it. Macy waited for her with the door open and launched herself into Amelia’s arms.

“I love you, Meel.” She sniffed and grabbed Amelia’s hand.

Odd, the child didn’t seem the least bit upset. In fact, she was insufferably pleased with herself. She’d stepped in a trap, and it’d snapped shut. She looked up, glancing around.

Brick stood in the doorway, watching her, his expression guarded.

“Hey.”

She narrowed her eyes and shot daggers at him. “I thought you were gone?”

“Did you really think I’d leave my daughter all alone? You wound me.” He put his hands to his heart and smiled that lopsided smile she could never resist. This time, she did, as difficult as it was.

“You two set me up.”

He and Macy shared a conciliatory grin and both shrugged, looking so much alike she couldn’t help but see the resemblance.

“You wouldn’t take my calls,” he said with no remorse. “Good little actor, isn’t she?”

“Great.”

“Macy, could you leave Amelia and me alone for a few minutes?”

Macy nodded enthusiastically, giggling; she ran into the house and pounded up the stairs. Brick led Amelia inside. She glanced around. The gas fireplace flickered cheerfully on one wall, warming the entire place. A huge Christmas tree took up a good portion of the living room. A couch and coffee table completed the furniture. The walls were bare of paintings and pictures.

“Where’s all your stuff?”

“I thought we’d get new stuff, something cozy, less cold. Decorate how we wanted.”

“We?”

“Macy’s living with me permanently now.” He winked at her, moved to the kitchen, and poured her a glass of wine. He snagged a beer from the fridge for himself and handed her the wine.

“Have a seat.”

“If you let Macy pick the decorations, everything will be pink.” She sat down on one end of the couch.

He snorted. “Yeah, it will. I’d rather you decorated.” He sat down on the couch next to her, leaving only an inch or two between them. She tried to scoot away but had nowhere to go.

“I’m not decorating one room of this house, not even a closet.”

“You’re not going to make this easy.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. By the determined set of his jaw, he wasn’t going to give up easily, and she prepared herself.

“Whatever this is, no, I am not.”

He made no move to touch her, as if he knew the timing wasn’t good. He scrubbed his hands over his face and peeked between his fingers at her. “Hear me out, please.”

She glanced at her watch. “Fine, you have ten minutes.”

“Okay, then, I’m an idiot. A selfish bastard. But I’m also a reformed bad boy who very much wants to be your good man.”

She snorted a bitter laugh. “Sure you do.”

“I do, Ammie. These past few weeks have been absolute fucking torture. I tried to return to my old life, only I couldn’t. I didn’t want it anymore. I saw it for the empty, shallow life it was. I don’t want to go backward. I want to go forward. And I’d rather do that with Macy—and you.”

He grabbed her hands and held them. She didn’t pull them away. She should’ve, but the earnest plea in his brown eyes pinned her in place.

“I know what I want. I wish I’d realized it sooner, but I didn’t. I’m too hardheaded to see what’s right in front of me until its absence knocks me over the head. I love Macy, Amelia. Love her. I realized she needed to be with me. But our family won’t be complete without you in it.”

Amelia choked back a sob. Brick was a charmer; he knew how to get women to do what he wanted. She couldn’t cave, couldn’t fall for his act again.

Only as she looked into his eyes, she couldn’t see any deception. Only regret. Deep, deep regret. “It’s warm in here, and you’re not sweating.” She wasn’t sure why that mattered, but it did.

“Yeah, weird, huh? Once I’d stopped letting my stepmother’s opinions guide my choices, I didn’t overheat as much. I do prefer it cooler, though. Does it matter?”

Strangely, it did, and she nodded slowly. “You want me here because you want us to be a family?”

He nodded. “Not as my nanny, but my life’s partner. My girlfriend. My lover. My best friend. I want it all, Amelia. Am I crazy to think I might have it all?”

“Probably.”

He chuckled. “You’re going to make me suffer.”

“Maybe.” She wasn’t about to give him anything.

“Have you missed me? Missed us?”

“Yes.” She couldn’t lie. She’d missed them both. “You could’ve fixed all this if you’d been honest with yourself and us in the first place.”

“I know. I guess I’m not that smart. I have to have the painful truth bludgeoned into my stubborn skull with a mallet.” He squeezed her hands and leaned forward. She didn’t move away when he rested his forehead against hers. “Can you forgive me?”

Her resolve faded with every word. She raised her head to seek his mouth. They kissed, a slow exploration, a journey down an unmarked road with no idea of where it might head, but a road they’d travel together.

He ended the kiss and cupped her face in his hands, searching her face.

“I love you, Amelia.” He blinked back a few tears and kissed the tip of her nose. She couldn’t come up with any reason to fight him any longer. She wanted to stay with him. Be with him. Love him back.

“Damn you.” She managed a wry smile. “I love you, too. I didn’t want to, but I do.”

He grinned broadly. “Of course you do. I’m irresistible.”

She swatted at him chest. “You’re a mess. You need me.”

“Yeah, I do. Someone has to keep me in line.”

“I guess Macy and I can do that.”

She pulled his face back down to hers and kissed the hell out of him.