How do you feel about playing against your brother this evening?” the reporter asked Jackson outside the locker room at the Denver stadium. The camera lights and the microphones shoved so close to his face were making him claustrophobic. He didn’t understand how the other players were so calm and cool during these pregame interviews.
He was far from calm and cool. He was freaking out a little. Actually he was freaking out a lot. He took a deep breath and hesitated, weighing his answer. It should have been an easy one—repeat the same sentiments he’d heard Ben and Asher repeat over and over again. He was going to kick his brother’s ass. He knew Ben’s weak areas. It would be the same here tonight as it had been on the pond in Glenwood Falls when they were kids…All of these responses lined up to be used, but he was far too anxious to say any of it. Instead, he cleared his throat, and said, “I’m not sure. I guess I’ll know when I get out there.”
The reporter looked a little confused by the answer, but she glanced at her cameraman quickly and moved on. “You played for the Eagles years ago, and this opportunity presented itself back then—but you were benched and didn’t actually play on NHL ice—is that why you took a break for a while?”
Jeez. They really knew how to put people on edge. “I…uh, I guess so. I don’t know.” Could they just play hockey now? The longer he waited for the game to begin, the longer he sat in the hotel room waiting to go, the longer he sat under these bright lights and glaring questions, the more uneasy he felt.
The game in Phoenix had been different; no one had known he’d been called up, no one knew who he was, and no one had expected him to play as well as he had, not even himself.
This game was different. The pressure was on. The pressure from the media, the pressure from the team, the pressure on himself…His chest hurt.
“Okay, one more question: Do you think we will see that amazing assist effort from you tonight like the other night in Phoenix?”
Finally, an easy one. “You bet.” He may feel ill, he may be uncomfortable, he may be struggling with the fact that his second NHL game was on an opposing team in his hometown, against his star player brother, whom he’d yet to talk to about all of this, but none of that mattered—he would play his best game out there that evening.
As he climbed down from the hot seat and headed toward the locker rooms, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that he should at least talk to Ben. Ben was the NHL player, this was his career, he was leading in points in the league that season, and Jackson couldn’t help but struggle with the idea that playing his best could result in a defeat for Ben, a slide in the rankings…
Damn it. Asher didn’t give a shit about those things. He played to win against everyone—especially Ben.
But this was Asher’s life, too.
He still felt like an outsider, a fake, someone they just hadn’t figured out didn’t belong there yet.
He let out a deep breath as he entered the busy locker room. He had to get out of his head and get his focus back. The team in that room counted on him to bring his A game as he had two nights before.
“Hey, Westmore! Don’t go easy on your brother out there,” Olaf Herman, a first line left wing said, as though reading his mind. “Because believe me, he won’t go easy on you.”
* * *
“Okay, you two need to stop bouncing,” Abigail said a little more harshly than she intended.
It didn’t matter. Dani and Taylor ignored her anyway, continuing to chat excitedly as they waited for the stadium lights to dim and the national anthem to be sung.
In her own seat, Abigail was numb. Her body and mind couldn’t decide how to feel, how to act, or what to say, so she’d gone through the motions that day in a fog. Her palms sweat but her mouth felt dry, and the soda she sipped as though it held all the answers wasn’t helping.
The main lights went down and spotlights lit the arena. Everyone else in the stadium besides the three of them and Jackson’s mom—sitting in the owner’s box as an honorary guest—had no reason to care about the Coyotes skating out onto the ice.
But when Jackson appeared, a round of deafening applause rattled the stands.
She could see his expression from where she sat, and the look etched across his face caused an instant lump to surface in her throat. He looked so surprised and honored by the fans’ reaction. Here he was, living his dream.
And as much as she hated to admit it, he looked damn good out there, like he belonged on the ice, like this was what he’d been made to do. In full hockey gear, the number thirteen on his back under his last name, he glided effortlessly across the surface as though he’d skated on it a million times. If he was nervous, no one could tell.
She was nervous. Incredibly freaking nervous.
“I am so proud of him!” Taylor said, her smile wide, and Abigail nearly choked on the emotions welling up in her own chest.
When the home team skated out, the fans continued their cheering and all around her the stadium was alive.
As the anthem ended and the lights came up, the Arizona Coyotes skated past on their way to their players’ box and Jackson’s gaze met hers.
He winked at her as he passed, and it was in that moment she knew.
Hockey player or not, she loved him. And hockey player or not, she wanted to be with him.
Now she just had to wait until this game was over so she could tell him. She suspected she was in for the longest three periods of hockey of her life.
* * *
The first two periods of the game were uneventful, with both teams trading scores until the home team took the lead at the beginning of the third period.
Jackson watched the majority of the first forty minutes from the bench, playing only one two-minute round toward the end of the second, resulting in an assist for the second goal of the game. The stadium’s reaction to it had made a tornado of emotions well up inside of him. The cheering support from the fans had been exhilarating, and the look on Abby’s face had made him feel prouder of himself than he’d ever felt. He’d made it. He was good enough—for hockey and for her.
Ben, of course, was on fire that evening, and getting to watch his brother play from a players’ box was reward in itself, but he was itching to get out there again. His mom watched from the owner’s box, and there were three other women in the stands he wouldn’t mind skating past again.
“Westmore, you’re in next. Let’s see what you can do against your brother,” Coach Foster said, tapping him on the helmet.
He shouldn’t be surprised they decided to play him on Ben’s line. After all, Ash had the best chance out of any defensive player to go head to head with him. Guess now it was time to find out if he could take on his brother as well.
The line changed, and holding his stick firmly to calm the slight shaking of his hands, he skated onto the ice. As before, the crowd cheered briefly to acknowledge one of their own, but he barely heard it as he approached the left side of the goalie, skating after a loose puck. He shot it right toward the other defenseman and the young man skated behind the net with it before passing to their right wing at the red center line.
Carson caught it expertly and skated toward Colorado’s net, where he took a fast, short, powerful swing at it, shooting the puck at lightning speed just to the right of the goal post.
The Avalanche’s defenseman collected the puck and passed it to Ben.
Jackson’s eyes were on the play and briefly met his older brother’s as Ben took control of it.
Here we go.
Hanging back near his goalie, he could feel the electricity in the stadium as fans started to cheer their family name. For which brother—maybe both—it was uncertain. It didn’t matter.
For the first time in his life, Jackson was going head to head against his brother on NHL ice. It didn’t get much more real than this.
His legs felt like they were on fire as adrenaline soared through him, and all of a sudden he was a young kid again, experiencing the thrill of the game.
Ben skated toward their net, dodging the offense, past the blue line…
His famous move was the last-minute high shot to the left corner of the net.
Jackson positioned himself to block the shot, careful not to obscure his goalie’s view. They all knew Ben’s signature move, but this time, his brother surprised him by passing the puck.
He must have surprised his teammate as well, as the guy missed the pass, and the other Arizona defenseman took control of it, immediately sailing it across the ice to Jackson.
The puck hit his stick and he hesitated.
His brother was headed straight toward him.
The body check was one he’d taken from Ben a million times. He knew where he would hit, the impact of the hit, and how to defend against it.
But he didn’t.
Instead, a second later, his left shoulder hit the boards and his world was rocked momentarily as his brother stole the puck.
Ben grinned as he skated away toward the net. “Welcome to the NHL, little brother.”
* * *
The sound of the home fans cheering and celebrating their team’s third win in a row was in stark contrast to the solemn, exhausted haze lingering over the players in the Arizona locker room.
“We played well tonight. They played better,” Coach Foster was saying, giving what Jackson assumed was his customary “we lost, it’s over, let’s regroup and refocus before the next game” speech.
Jackson was barely listening.
While the coach went over the game play by play, period by period, in his mind, so did he.
He’d felt good out there, just as he had two nights before in Phoenix. Once he’d settled onto the ice in the third line, he’d fallen into a rhythm. He hadn’t let the home crowd cheering for the opposite team get to him. He hadn’t wavered in his defense, even when the opposition skated toward him with the puck, closing in on his goalie. He hadn’t let his conflicted heart mess up his confidence or skills.
He’d played his best game.
Until he faced off with Ben. He almost hadn’t recognized the look in his brother’s eyes as Ben skated toward the goalie, toward him. He knew he was about to be taken out. He also knew he could defend it. A part of him also knew he could have kept that puck.
But in that brief moment, he’d seen all the years of dedication Ben had put into being the best—the sleep he didn’t get, getting up early for practice, the parties he hadn’t attended, instead putting the time in at the arena. And then everything Ben was missing flashed in his mind—the time in Glenwood Falls with the family, the time to focus on a relationship with one woman, not a string of one-night stands, the life events he missed out on or saw only in Facebook pictures, the last few months of their father’s life.
And in that brief second which had felt like it spanned a lifetime, he realized why he’d never made it to the NHL before: he hadn’t wanted it bad enough. Not the way Ben and Asher did.
And even now, after having a taste of the life that realistically could be his if he continued to work his ass off, he still wasn’t sure he wanted it as bad as his brothers did.
In fact, as an image of Abby’s smile appeared in his mind, he knew he didn’t.
There were just some things in life he wanted more.
* * *
“Mom, quit bouncing!” Dani said teasingly as the three of them waited in the players’ lounge with the other families, while the players spoke to reporters, showered, and debriefed after the game.
She’d waited countless times for Dean in a similar lounge. Never had she felt so nervous. Never had she been so anxious. And never had it taken so freaking long. She paced in front of the bar, where Dani and Taylor sat sipping virgin margaritas, laughing and recapping the game with Jackson’s mother, Beverly.
Come on…And they say women take forever getting ready.
The door to the lounge opened and she turned, holding her breath, as several players entered.
She looked past them.
No Jackson.
“Seriously, dear, you’re going to wear down the floor. Why don’t you have a seat,” Beverly said, pulling out the bar stool next to her. “Trust me, he’ll be here,” she said with a wink.
Oh God. Everyone else had been so right about them. Why had it taken so many years for her to open her eyes to what had always been right in front of her?
She sighed as she sat, but then jumped back up again when the door opened and Jackson, wearing the required suit and tie, walked in. His messy gelled hair and his still flushed cheeks nearly buckled her knees.
Despite just watching him play, it felt like forever since she’d been near him. Since she’d been close enough to touch him, to smell the soft cologne she’d been missing so much. His gaze met hers and she stopped breathing.
He was hot. Plain and simple. And if they were alone at that moment, talking would have had to wait. Unfortunately, with so many people around, talking about anything important still might have to wait, and she prayed there was an opportunity to say everything she needed to.
Oh, but God, what she wanted most of all was to jump into his arms.
His niece beat her to it. “Uncle Jackson!” Taylor said as she and Dani rushed forward.
“Hey guys! Sorry, I didn’t win,” he said, with a grin, accepting their hugs, looking above their heads to smile at her.
She held up a hand in a small wave and struggled to get enough air into her lungs as he approached.
“Hi, Mom,” he said next, leaning forward to hug the woman.
She kissed his cheek. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispered.
Abigail wanted to look away, to give mother and son the privacy of the moment, but she couldn’t tear her eyes from him, just as she hadn’t the entire game.
She was almost about to tug on his sleeve like an impatient toddler, when he finally turned to face her. “Hi.”
She swallowed hard and cleared her throat, but still no sound came out when she tried to say the word. Her cheeks flushed and she yelled at herself to get it together. There was too much to say, and too little time to say it. She couldn’t waste a second of it tongue-tied like a love-struck teenager. God, had he felt this way around her all those years?
Luckily, he spoke again first. “Can we go someplace a little less…nosy?” he whispered, leaning toward her.
The smell of his cologne was intoxicating, and she had to clench her fists at her sides to stop herself from reaching out to touch his face. She nodded. “Do you think they’ll let you leave?” she asked, nodding toward his mom and the girls.
The door opened and Ben entered, his movie star smile in place.
“They won’t even notice now,” Jackson said with an easy laugh, taking her hand.
Her heart raced as his fingers interlocked with hers and she squeezed his tightly as he led her out to the lounge deck area, overlooking the ice below. The lights were off in the stadium, and the deck was empty. The perfect place, the perfect opportunity to tell him how she felt.
“Abby, I…”
“Wait. Please, can I go first?” she asked, afraid she might once again lose her nerve if she waited any longer.
He nodded, taking a step closer. Releasing her hand, he wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her into him. “As long as I can hold you while you talk, because I can’t wait any longer to have you in my arms.”
She moved even closer, finding courage and strength in his words. “Jackson, I know what I said about not wanting this life anymore. I know I said I just wanted a normal, everyday, quiet life in Glenwood Falls. That I could never…love another hockey player.” She paused. “But…”
He lifted her chin, staring into her eyes. His expression begged her to continue.
“But, the thing is, I love you. It doesn’t matter if you’re a coach, a player, a Zamboni driver. I love you. And if a hockey career is what you want, then I’m in. Whatever it takes, wherever that leads, I’m in.” She stared up at him, praying he still wanted her in his life. Hoping he hadn’t changed his mind or his heart since being away.
“Abby, you don’t want that life anymore.”
“I want you.”
“Shhhh,” he said, placing his finger against her lips.
“The thing is, neither do I.”
Her mouth gaped. “What? What are you talking about? You’ve made it. You’re playing in the NHL the way you always wanted.”
He shook his head. “The way I always thought I wanted. I love hockey, and these last few weeks just reinforced how much I love this sport…”
“Right. So don’t throw it away. Don’t give up this second chance at your dream because you don’t think I’m ready to commit to it as much as you are. I saw your face tonight when the fans cheered for you. This is where you belong.” She touched the stubble along his jaw.
“I’m not giving anything up. I’ve just realized that the dream I really want a second chance at is a life with you.” He silenced her again before she could argue. “A real life with you. A home with you and Dani. Not being away for months at a time, never being able to settle in one place permanently, missing out on life events and only getting to experience them through a computer.” He shook his head. “That’s not the life I want.”
She wanted desperately to believe every word because it was everything she wanted to hear, but she wasn’t convinced. “Jackson, I mean it when I say I’m a hundred percent supportive of this. Please don’t walk away from this for me, because you can have both.”
He smiled as he lowered his lips to hers, placing a soft, gentle kiss there before pulling her into him even tighter and kissing her again, harder, with a sense of wanting, yearning, passion that matched her own. “I don’t need both. I don’t want both. All I want, all I need is you, Abigail Jansen.”
She swallowed hard, happiness overwhelming her as she squeezed him, never wanting to let go. Still…“So, you really don’t want to play hockey anymore?”
“I do want to play hockey, with Dani and Taylor on the frozen lake behind the house and with the boys on Tuesday nights. What I don’t want is to play in the NHL or the AHL, or any other team that prevents this…” He paused to kiss her again. “From happening every day…” He kissed her nose. “All day…” He kissed her forehead. “For the rest of my life.”
“Are you sure?” she whispered.
“I’ve always been sure. It just took a little while to get enough courage to tell you,” he said. “Come on.” He took her hand and brought it to his lips. “Let’s go home. I want to make two dreams come true in the same night.” His expression was full of desire as he pulled her in closer.
“I think I can help you with that,” she said, standing on her tiptoes to kiss the man she loved.
He held back just a little. “Say it again.”
She smiled. “I love you.”
“It’s about freaking time,” he said, as his mouth found hers.