Noise echoed around the practice rink, bouncing from the metal rafters and sliding across the smooth surface of the virgin ice. A chill hung in the air, holding the faintest bite to it, but not the kind that clawed its way into your bones. This was the kind of bite that invigorated, that made you happy you were alive.

Zach breathed in the cold air, felt the familiar feel of energy zing through his blood. His feet itched to get moving, his legs hummed with the anticipation of the burn as muscles stretched and pulled.

But not yet.

They weren't here to practice. Or to play.

At least, not that kind of play. The season was truly over for them, had been for just over a month. There would be no hockey today.

Or maybe there would be, just not the kind any of them were used to.

Today was a day for celebrations. Harland had rented the practice rink for Noah's third birthday party. Instead of the familiar sounds of grunts and Torresi's yelling, there was laughter and the low roar of conversation. Instead of the smells of sweat and pungent water, there was the scent of pizza and cake and fruity snacks.

But especially pizza.

Zach grabbed two more slices from the box and tossed them on his plate, trying to ignore the fact that cheese and grease were now covering the smiling face of a huge red dog. There was just something seriously wrong about staring down at a cartoon face when you were trying to eat.

Tyler walked toward him and nudged him in the side. "You act like you haven't eaten in days."

Zach paused with a slice of pizza halfway to his mouth. He frowned, took a quick bite, then swallowed. All he needed now was to wash it down with a swig of beer. He settled for the fruit juice instead.

"I worked up an appetite earlier."

Tyler laughed then glanced over his shoulder to where the women were talking: Courtney, Haley, Jenny, Megan. All four heads together, oohing and ahhing over Noah as he hammed it up for them.

"How's she doing?"

"Good. For the most part."

Tyler turned back to him, his dark eyes serious. "Is she?"

"Yeah."

"How about you?"

"Me?" Zach finished off the slice then wiped his hands on a napkin. "I'm fine. I'm not the one who was attacked."

"Doesn't mean you can't be fine."

"Maybe. And maybe I'll be better when the son-of-a-bitch is rotting in a prison cell for what he did to her." Anger dripped from his voice, a mild reflection of the rage that still lived inside him—a rage he doubted would go away anytime soon. He did his best to hide it from Haley, didn't want her to see it, didn't want to worry her. But Haley was across the room and he was talking to Tyler. He didn't care if Tyler saw it.

Except that Tyler always saw too much.

"You still think it was your fault?"

Zach leveled a glare at him that should have sent the other man running. Tyler just stood there, meeting the stare with one of his own. Zach finally looked away and shook his head.

"Don't give me that fucking goalie Zen stare or whatever the fuck you call it. It won't work."

"I'm not."

"Yeah. Okay."

"Just want to make sure you don't do anything stupid. Like go after him."

"I'm not. As much as I want to, I'm not."

"You sure about that? Because it's not like you just take five for fighting and go sit in the bin."

"Yeah, I know. Aaron already told me that." More than once, not that Tyler needed to know that.

Tyler studied him for another minute then nodded, satisfied at whatever the fuck he saw in Zach's eyes. He reached to the side and grabbed a slice of pizza, bit off a large bite, then looked behind him again.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there that night. When it happened."

Zach still didn't understand why Tyler was so hellbent on apologizing every time they saw each other. There was nothing Tyler could have done—nothing any of them could have done. But they were still family, still brothers. Not related by blood but drawn together by a bond that was even stronger.

"Yeah, I know. But you had your own shit to deal with it." Zach looked around, his gaze resting on the small group in the corner. Ben. Travis. Dustin.

Jason.

"Speaking of shit, you guys still not talking?"

Tyler's face went completely blank, his dark eyes turning hard and cold. "Who?"

"You know exactly who."

"No. I don't."

"Come on, man. He's her brother. You can't keep acting like this."

"After what he did to her? What he said to her? The hell I can't. I want nothing to do with him."

"And Jenny's okay with that?"

"She hasn't talked to him, either."

"You sure about that? Because she's still pretty friendly with Megan. Not sure how that works, considering Megan is Jason's other half."

"His better half. I have no problem with Megan."

"Tyler. Man. You need to get over it. Let it go. What the hell are you going to do when the season starts?"

"The same thing I did right before it ended: ignore him."

"You can't—"

"After the things he said to her? You were there that night. You heard him."

"What happened that night is a little fuzzy." At least, what happened in the bar was fuzzy, eclipsed by what followed. An icy shiver skittered across his spine as flashes of memory came back. He pushed them away, not wanting to remember, wishing he could forget.

Tyler nudged him and shot him a look of warning. "Stop thinking about it."

"Yeah. I know. I think Jason had a good idea—"

Tyler swore as soon as he said the name but Zach kept on talking, ignoring him.

"—when he said I should take her away for a little bit. Head up to the lake, just get away from it all for a little bit." Zach finished off the juice box and tossed it onto his empty plate. "You guys feel like coming up? Maybe for a week or something?"

"We're taking a trip ourselves or we would."

"Where are you guys off to?"

A sly smile crossed Tyler's face. He glanced over at Jenny, the smile growing wider. "Nowhere you need to worry about."

"Well, nothing is set in stone. I haven't even mentioned it to Haley yet. When are you guys leaving? Maybe we can work something out."

"In a few hours."

"What? Tonight?"

"Yup. And the best part is, Jenny doesn't even know."

"How in the hell did you manage that? Doesn't she have to work?"

"She already took off. She thinks we're just hanging out at home."

Zach didn't want to admit it but he was impressed. And disappointed. Hearing what Tyler planned made his own surprise pale in comparison.

No, it didn't. Maybe it wasn't as flashy as whisking Haley away on a surprise vacation, but she'd still get a kick out of it.

He hoped.

Harland walked over, Noah tossed over his shoulder like a gear bag. Loose curls danced over the toddler's forehead as he laughed his silent laugh and bounced on Harland's shoulder. Harland gave him a playful smack then turned him upright, holding the kid like you were supposed to.

"You clowns done jabbering over here? Courtney says it's time to cut the cake."

"Yeah." Zach looked around, counting heads. "Where's Aaron? I thought he was coming."

The smile on Harland's face died. "You didn't hear?"

"Hear what?"

"He's on a plane heading out to Utah. His ex-wife was in an accident."

"Oh, shit. How bad?"

"No idea. He didn't say. He's going to call when he gets out there."

"What about his girls? Were they with her? Are they okay?"

"Don't know. It, uh, it didn't sound good."

"Fuck. He doesn't need that shit right now."

"No shit." Harland shifted Noah in his arms, frowning as his son's fingers moved back and forth. Harland's fingers moved in response. "Yes, I know. Uncle Zach said a bad word. Don't tell Mommy."

"What the hell? How did he know—"

"Your lips. I think he's picking it up—at least that particular word—because Courtney yells at me every time I say it." Harland bounced Noah in his arms then lowered him to the ground. He took off running, heading straight to Courtney. She bent down, watched his fingers move, then frowned at Zach, a smile wobbling on her face.

Harland didn't bother to hide his laughter when he elbowed him in the side. "You are so busted."

"I'm innocent, Courtney. I swear."

Everyone laughed, including Haley. And it was her laughter that warmed him, that sent his heart soaring and caused the smile to spread across his face. He moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against him. Just holding her, never wanting to let go, not even when they sang Happy Birthday. Not when they passed the cake around. Not when they broke off in small groups, the noise of a dozen different conversations echoing around them.

He never wanted to let her go.

Zach bent his head and pressed his mouth against her ear. "Hey, I've got something for you."

"Me? What? Why? You don't need—"

"I know. It's just something small. Not a big deal." He folded his hand around hers and led her across the rink, toward the metal bleachers. Her steps faltered and she tugged on his hand.

"We are not having sex under the bleachers. Not with everyone around."

He stumbled to a stop and spun around, staring at her in open-mouthed astonishment. "Holy shit, Red. That thought hadn't even crossed my mind. But now that you mention it—"

"No! Forget I said anything."

He leaned forward and pressed his mouth to hers, the kiss over too soon. Would he ever get enough of her? No. Not in this lifetime.

Or the next.

"Maybe later." He released her hand then placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her around, so her back was to him. "Close your eyes and no peeking."

"What—"

"Just close your eyes." He released his hands and stepped back. "Are your eyes closed?"

Her shoulders shook with silent laughter. "Yes. They're closed."

"Good. Now don't open them. And no turning around, either." He watched her for a few seconds to make sure she wasn't going to cheat then reached behind the bleachers and pulled out the surprise he had for her.

"Okay. You can look now."

Haley turned around, a ghost of a smile hovering on her lips as she opened her eyes and looked down.

And kept looking.

She frowned, blinked, then looked up at him. "It's a hockey stick."

"Not just any stick. It's mine. My lucky stick."

"Okay."

She stood there, just watching him, confusion clear on her face. And fuck, this was so fucking stupid. What the hell had he been thinking? He almost tossed the damn stick back behind the bleachers. No, he'd come this far, might as well make a complete ass out of himself.

"Here. Take it." He held it out to her, holding his breath as her hands closed around it.

"I don't—"

"Just look at it. At the shaft."

One sculpted brow lifted. "The shaft?"

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Red. Not my shaft. Although you can look at that all you want later. You can even play with it—"

"Zach!"

"Okay, okay." He closed his hands over hers and turned the stick so she could see. Haley looked down, stiffened, then looked back at him. The frown faded from her face, replaced with a soft expression of surprise.

"It's my name."

"Yup. Haley. And here—" He turned the stick over to show her. "Red."

"You had my name engraved on your stick?"

"Yeah."

"I don't understand."

Zach caught her chin in his hand and tilted her head up. He swept his thumb across her lower lip, felt her tremble under his touch. "Remember when you said you didn't want to be another notch on my hockey stick?"

"Yeah. But I—"

"You're the only notch on my hockey stick, Haley. The only one who's ever mattered."

"Oh Zach. That is so...so—"

"Stupid? Corny? Idiotic?"

"No. Sweet. It's the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me." She held the stick close to her chest then leaned forward and brushed her mouth against his. Soft, warm, promising. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer, the stick wedged between them, and deepened the kiss until she pulled away, breathless. Her lids fluttered open, her gaze meeting his with another silent promise. Then she took a deep breath and nodded.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

She nodded again. "Okay. Now."

"Now?" He blinked, his mind slow and foggy. Realization and understanding barreled into him all at once, nearly knocking him off his feet. He cupped his hands around her face, felt himself drowning in the heat of her gaze. "I love you, Haley. You have no idea how much."

She was quiet for so long that Zach started to wonder if maybe he should have kept his mouth shut. Maybe he'd been reading things all wrong. Maybe what he thought he'd seen had been nothing more than wishful thinking.

He was ready to step back, ready to make up some excuse or say something equally stupid. Haley dropped the stick and jumped, her long legs wrapping around his waist. "I love you, too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Awesome. Thank God. I was starting to worry."

"Just wanted to keep you on your toes, Mummert."

"Sweetheart, I have no doubt that you'll be doing that for the rest of my life."

"Complaining?"

"Hell no, Red. I'm looking forward to it." His mouth crashed over hers. Hot, sweet, warm, frantic. Possessing and claiming—and surrendering—at the same time.

Zach tightened his hold around her and backed up, heading behind the bleachers until he heard someone call his name, heard the laughter and catcalls. He broke the kiss, frustration filling him when he saw that everyone was watching them.

When he realized everyone knew exactly what he'd been hoping to do.

He looked down at Haley, his heart slamming against his chest at the smile on her face, at the love in her eyes. Open, honest.

Trusting.

He kissed her again and released her, reveling in the warmth of her body as it slid against his. "Later. Definitely later, Red."

"Is that a promise?"

He wrapped his hand around hers and led her away from the temptation of the bleachers. "Just the first of many."

And he meant it.

More than he'd ever meant anything before.