Chapter 12

FORD EXTRACTED HIS RINGING phone from his jeans, the ones that were halfway between the door and Addy’s bed. That made him smile but then the sight of his agent’s overly tanned face wiped the self-satisfaction clean off. Ford steeled himself for the inevitable fallout from his visit to Rajuns’ HQ yesterday.

His mind went back to his meeting with Babineaux. Only the second time he’d been allowed to contaminate the owner’s office with his presence and there was an excellent chance it would be his last. But he refused to sneak around like a kid on curfew.

Babineaux had stood up and rounded the desk, his hand outstretched.

“Callaghan, good to see you. Just back from Chicago, I hear. How’d it go?”

“Good.” Ford gripped the boss’s hand. “Saw family. Toured with the Cup. Plenty of nice media coverage.”

Babineaux nodded approvingly and gestured at a leather seat. He leaned against the antique desk, his long legs in gray charcoal wool. He always wore a suit to the games and even now, he looked so put together that Ford doubted himself. If this was the kind of guy Addison liked then why the hell would she want anything to do with a lug like him?

But this man didn’t make her happy, while Ford knew in his heart of hearts that he could. There was more than just sizzling sexual chemistry between them. The connection he felt with Addison was real and she felt it, too. Whatever barriers needed smashing, he would bring the dynamite. Starting now.

“What can I do for you, Callaghan? Not trying to negotiate for a bonus, are you?”

“I leave the dirty fighting to my agent,” Ford replied. His agent was not going to appreciate that Ford had gone to Babineaux without looping him in, but this was personal, not business. “I need to run something by you. I met someone in Chicago.”

Babineaux’s brows rose, likely wondering why Ford’s personal life warranted a cozy tête-à-tête.

“And you’re telling me because?”

“I want to respect you by letting you know before you hear it from someone else.” He inhaled a sharp breath. “It’s Addison.”

“What’s Addison?”

“The person I met. Addison Williams.”

Babineaux froze. His face, his body, the air around him.

“You’re in a relationship with Addison?” Clipped, lethal.

“Not yet, but I want to be.” Best to fudge that so the idea of Ford fucking the man’s ex-wife didn’t take root. At least, not immediately. “We met a few days ago and the attraction is there. She’s reluctant to take it further.”

“Why?”

Ford shrugged, though it locked up his shoulders instead of easing anything. “She’s worried you’ll retaliate. Against me.” At least he hoped that was her primary concern.

Babineaux smirked. “And there I was thinking that maybe she was worried about hurting my feelings.”

Pretty rich coming from the guy who had a different woman in the box every game. Maybe it was the classic gambit of hiding your pain in a haze of tail but that didn’t seem likely given how Addy had described him. Babineaux just didn’t enjoy losing. And that sure as hell wasn’t reason enough for Ford to walk on eggshells around him.

“I suppose she’s told you about me,” the boss said, sounding mighty uncomfortable.

Ford shook his head. “Not a word. I don’t need to know what happened between you. That’s your business. I just want her to be able to move forward without any threats to either of us hanging over our heads.”

That earned him a hard-nosed stare, no more than he expected. Ford was tired of living his life as an apology. He didn’t owe Jax a career served out as if he was doing time. He didn’t owe Michael Babineaux his balls served on a silver platter. The only person he owed was himself.

He wanted Addy. He wanted to see where this might go, and eliminating the obstacles up front was the best—the only—way to approach it.

“You took a risk coming here,” Babineaux finally said after a ball-shriveling silence. “Damn gusty.”

Ford heard admiration there, but he didn’t think it would lead him out of the woods. Men like Babineaux didn’t get to be men like Babineaux without playing a little hardball.

Ford merely nodded, preferring to let the boss lead. This was the trickiest part of the conversation. The moment held, suspended on the th-thunk of Ford’s heartbeat.

Babineaux thrust out his hand. “I think we’re done here.”

Ford hauled his brain back to the present and the phone call he needed to deal with in the here and now.

“Hey, Tommy.”

“Hey, Tommy?” his agent sputtered predictably. “Hey, Tommy? What the fuck is that? And what the hell are you doing having career-destroying chats with Michael Babineaux? Please tell me the rumors aren’t true.”

He played along. “The rumors aren’t true.”

“Thank God.”

“They’re not rumors. I’m seeing Addison, and Babineaux will just have to deal.”

Tommy made a choking sound. “Just have to deal? Just. Have. To—”

“Man, you are going to have to stop repeating me. I know what I said. This is personal between Babineaux and me, and there’s nothing here that concerns you.”

“Noth—do you know what he’s gonna do to you? You have two years left on your contract, and he’ll make those two years hell. You’ll be on the bench for most of it. You’ll never play in the Finals again. And then when you’re up for a trade, he’ll send you to some shitty team like the Rebels. Is that what you want? The prime years of your career spent with your balls riding the pine or skating for a bunch of losers?”

A nagging discomfort came over him as he sat heavily on the bed. Sure, Babineaux could do that but the man would have to eventually see reason. Ford was a valued asset. Businessmen did not allow their personal feelings get in the way of making money, and Ford on the ice made money for the Rajuns. Besides, the fans would crucify a team owner who screwed with a star player’s career because of masculine pride.

“I’ve got it under control.”

“Glad you think so,” he heard behind him.

He turned, and there she was, the woman of his dreams. Except she didn’t look nearly as happy to see him as she had last night.

“Later, Tommy.” Ford hung up on his agent’s unmanly squeal. “Hey, Bright Eyes.”

“What the hell were you thinking?”

He didn’t pretend to misunderstand her. “I’m not sneaking around, Addy. If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it properly.”

“So you made the unilateral decision to talk to my ex-husband about how you’d like to what—date me?”

Ford nodded. “Date you, be with you, make you mine.”

She covered her face with her hands. “That is not your decision to make, Callaghan. I hardly know you. A week ago, you were a strange voice on a hotel balcony. Now you’re discussing my dating future with my ex-husband.”

Perhaps he should have given her a heads-up before he walked into Babineaux’s office, but she would’ve tried to talk him out of it. The next step would’ve been her telling him that no fling was worth the threat to his career. And after that . . . it‘d be bye-bye, Callaghan.

Starting as they meant to go on was the only way. Of this he was certain.

That didn’t quite explain why he neglected to clue her in when he came over last night, but the second he’d seen her, all his blood had hurtled south. This was her fault, really, for being so damn gorgeous.

He kept that nugget to himself.

“Sweetheart, I had to do something. You know what’s between us is crazy, strong, and real. I want to follow that to its logical conclusion.”

“Logical? This isn’t logic. Just sheer staking of territory. You may as well have peed on me.” She rubbed her forehead. “What did he say?”

“He took it pretty well. Thanked me for being upfront.”

She stopped in her fury-filled tracks, hands on hips. “And you believed him?”

No. He didn’t. But that didn’t change what was happening here. He and Addison were happening, and this passion needed to freight-train it all the way to the terminal.

“Addy, I don’t know what kind of hold he has—or had over you. But what happens between you and me isn’t for anyone else to decide.”

“Except for you alone, apparently.” Her eyes flew wide. “I can’t do this. I can’t be responsible for what happens when Michael turns on you. And believe me, he will. Neither will I stand by while you engage in some pissing contest with my ex.”

He saw her fear in the pulse beating at the base of her throat, the one he’d licked and kissed last night. He knew what it was like to let fear mold your life. He also knew a thing or two about regrets.

He cupped her face with both hands. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything. More than a professional hockey career. More than the Cup. This isn’t going to go away because you’re scared of the consequences. It’s happened fast, but that doesn’t make it any less valid. This need I have for you, Addy, is real. It’s true.”

“It’s just sex, Callaghan.” She jerked out of his grasp and started pacing up and down. She was scared, but she was also angry, and it was magnificent. “You’re young and have probably been hit a few times too many against the boards. This isn’t anything more. And it certainly isn’t real or true.”

One of them needed to be the brave one here. “Pretty sure it is, Addy.”

She threw up her hands. “I just got out of a relationship—”

“Eighteen months ago.”

She didn’t look too appreciative of his interruption. “I’m about to open a brand-new business and I do not have time for this. And that’s before we get to all the other crap, such as you going behind my back to get my ex’s permission to date me before you had mine. This is not the 1950s. I won’t be another man’s trophy, Ford.”

That’s what she thought? Hell, he already had a damn trophy. Had worked hard for it, and he would work equally hard for this. For her. He wanted this real, flesh-and-blood, passionate woman.

“I need you to take a leap, Addy. This is terrifying, I know, but it’s what I want, and I’m pretty sure it’s what you want.”

“Don’t be so sure you know what I want, Ford. Men have made that mistake before. Even if I wanted to date you, I’m not sure I can be with someone who so clearly thinks with his dick.”

He grasped her hand and laid it over his chest, making sure she absorbed the vital beat beneath her soft palm. It thumped for her and her alone. “My heart, Addison Williams. This is a decision straight from the heart.”

She looked woebegone, as if that was the worst thing he could have said. Had he misjudged this? Perhaps it was a little high-handed, but he wanted to remove the obstacles that stopped her from seeing a clear vista to the finish line.

She jerked her hand away. “I can’t do this, Ford. There isn’t enough here to justify these huge changes in your life. In my life.”

“Are you denying you have feelings for me?”

She appeared to steel herself. “You’re a nice boy, Ford. But you’ve got a lot to learn about relationships. I won’t be held hostage to my hormones, and I won’t be made to feel I owe you a shot because you did something incredibly dumb and disrespectful.”

Nice boy? That’s not what she was saying when she begged him to take her over and over last night. Dumb? So his Mensa application wouldn’t pass muster. But disrespectful? Shit, he was trying to make this easier on her. On them both.

“So what was the plan, Addy? I sneak into Chicago a couple of days a month, we screw each other into a coma, and then I head back to NOLA, smug in the knowledge I’ve got one over on the boss?” He shook his head. “That’s not how I want to live my life. Enjoying scraps and sneaking around.”

“Well, you won’t have to sneak around. You won’t have to do anything.”

“Fine, Addy. Just fucking fine.” He grabbed his jeans and stabbed his feet into the legs. “You don’t want to fight for this, then there’s not much point to continuing this conversation.”

He would fight but only if she wanted it as much as he did. And apparently, she didn’t. Shit. Done before we’re even started.

He’d had enough of one-sided relationships to last a lifetime.