25
One week later, the Rebels arrived in Detroit and checked into their hotel.
After going up to his room to drop off his bag and change out of his suit, Reid left the hotel and took a cab to his younger brother’s place. He kept a car stored in Ryder’s garage so he’d have his own transportation whenever he came to town.
He’d asked his father to meet him over there so they could talk in private. He had a sensitive matter to discuss with the old man, a personal request he didn’t want Roark’s live-in girlfriend to overhear.
The cab hurtled along the streets, passing the General Motors headquarters and renovated high-rises, the towers of downtown Detroit glimmering in the morning sunlight. Reid stared out the window, barely registering the familiar scenery. His mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Nadia. She was arriving that evening, and he couldn’t wait to see her.
Unfortunately, it would be a good while longer because he had practice followed by a mandatory team dinner tonight. His sisters had eagerly volunteered to pick up Nadia from the airport and drive her to the hotel, which was the same hotel where the team was staying.
Reid hadn’t seen his baby in three days, so he fully intended to spend the night with her, making up for lost time. Viggo had promised to cover for him in case Coach did a surprise bed check. Good looking out.
On the way to Ryder’s townhouse, the cabbie could barely contain his excitement at having Reid in his vehicle. He asked him a bunch of questions and talked his ear off about Saturday night’s game against the Red Wings.
Soon they arrived at his brother’s brownstone, which was situated in a converted warehouse on Detroit’s riverfront. Reid gave the cabbie a generous tip and autographed some items for his grandkids, then shook the man’s hand and got out of the car. He strode up the walk, jogged up the brick steps to the front door and let himself inside with his key.
Ryder’s townhouse wasn’t your typical spartan bachelor pad. Avery had decorated the place with her brother’s personality and lifestyle in mind. The result was a sleek, minimalist décor with angular furnishings in a masculine palette of blacks, whites and grays. The art work consisted of black-and-white photographs that revealed glimpses into Ryder’s life by capturing him at various moments: sitting astride a tricked-out Harley, one hand on the throttle; napping on the hood of a gleaming 1969 Ford Mustang; standing with a group of oil rig workers, their faces covered in sweat and grime. There was even an old picture of him and Reid grinning boyishly with their arms slung around each other’s necks at a baseball game when they were children. The vintage photos added warm touches to the décor and made great conversation pieces, although Ryder grumbled that displaying too many pictures of himself could make him look like a self-absorbed prick.
As Reid walked through the high-ceilinged foyer, he saw that the plantation shutters were still drawn in the living room, which meant his brother wasn’t up yet.
Ryder worked as a technical manager for a major oil and gas company. Prior to that, he’d been a roughneck on offshore oil rigs in the Gulf of Mexico. He’d spent four years laboring on drilling platforms, tenaciously working his way off the rig and into management. Now, at twenty-seven, his high six-figure salary afforded him a cushy lifestyle. But the supervisory position was demanding, requiring long hours and frequent travel to the company’s various plants and refineries. After pulling a double shift, Ryder usually came home and crashed.
But even without having a grueling job, he’d always been a heavy sleeper who could snore his way through a tsunami. When they were growing up, Reid used to wake his brother up for school by blasting “Smells Like Teen Spirit” in his ear. To this day, Ryder couldn’t hear any Nirvana song without scowling at the memory of those jarring wakeup calls.
As Reid walked through the silent townhouse, the heels of his boots rang hollow on the hardwood floors.
“Hello?” he called out in an amused voice. “Anybody home?”
There was no answer.
Chuckling under his breath, he made his way around the corner and down the hall to his brother’s bedroom.
Reaching the open doorway, he saw Ryder lying on his stomach in the rumpled king-size bed. The sheet was twisted around his waist, one long leg stuck out from beneath the covers. His face was buried in a pillow, his thick dark hair standing up in unruly disarray.
The faint scent of sex and cheap perfume clung to the air, cluing Reid in on what his brother had been doing last night.
“Yo, Ry, you up?” he called across the large room.
His brother didn’t so much as stir.
Grinning, Reid walked over and kicked the leg of the bed with the toe of his boot.
Ryder jerked awake, then lifted his head off the pillow and looked over his shoulder, one bleary blue eye peering up at Reid. “Hey, man,” he mumbled, his deep voice a groggy rasp. “You’re home.”
“That’s right. So rise and shine, motherfucker.” Reid grinned diabolically. “Don’t make me play your favorite song.”
Ryder groaned and weakly held up his middle finger, flipping Reid off.
He laughed.
Suddenly he heard the sound of a toilet flushing, followed by running water from the faucet. It was only then that he noticed a spiky red high heel peeking out from under the bed.
He cocked a surprised eyebrow at his brother. “She stayed?”
Ryder Holden didn’t do sleepovers. Neither had Reid—until he met Nadia.
“Couldn’t get rid of her,” Ryder muttered, rolling onto his back and scrubbing both hands over his stubble-darkened face. “Whatever you do, man, don’t leave me alone with her, or she’ll—”
At that moment the bathroom door opened to reveal a curvy bleached blonde in a tight red bandage dress.
“Hey, Ry, I was thinking about—” The blonde pulled up short with a startled squeak, staring at Reid in wide-eyed alarm. “Who the hell are…wait. Oh my God. I know who you are. You’re Ryder’s brother, the famous hockey player!”
Before Reid could respond, she let out an earsplitting squeal of excitement and rushed forward, her boobs practically bouncing out of her dress.
“I’ve heard so much about you!” she gushed, eagerly shaking Reid’s hand. “And I’ve seen you play, of course. Who in Detroit hasn’t?”
The corners of his mouth twitched. “Nice to meet you…?”
“Kelsey! Like, oh my God, I can’t believe you’re standing here in Ryder’s bedroom! You’re in town to play the Red Wings, right?”
“Right,” Reid murmured.
“That’s so awesome. Oh my goodness,” she marveled, staring up at him. “You and Ryder look just alike! Seriously! You could be twins!”
Reid flicked an amused glance at his grimacing brother, who had plugged his ears with his fingers as if to block out the nasal whine of Kelsey’s voice. He didn’t blame him.
“How far apart are you?” Kelsey asked curiously.
“A year,” Reid answered.
“No wonder!” She giggled again, twirling a long strand of hair around her finger. “So, Reid, I was just about to fix some break—”
“No, you weren’t.” Ryder rolled off the bed and onto his feet in one swift motion. He was bare-assed naked, tattooed biceps flexing as he bent down to grab his T-shirt off the floor. Kelsey stared at him, practically drooling as he pulled the shirt over his head and tugged it down over his muscular chest.
“You don’t need to fix breakfast,” he told Kelsey.
She pouted. “But I want to.”
“Not necessary. Really.” Ryder pulled on his jeans and zipped the fly. “Reid and I are gonna head out and grab something to eat.”
We are? Reid questioned with an amused look. He’d had a big breakfast on the plane, so he wasn’t hungry yet.
Ryder’s face silently begged him to play along.
So he rubbed his stomach and grunted, “Yes. Breakfast. Starving.”
“I bet you are, Mr. Hockey.” Flipping her blond hair, Kelsey licked her lips and divided an appreciative glance between Reid and Ryder. The hungry gleam in her eyes left no doubt that she’d be more than receptive to a threesome.
“Maybe I can join you guys for—”
“No.” Ryder was emphatic.
She frowned. “But—”
“My brother’s only in town for the weekend, and we’ve got a bunch of family stuff planned.”
Kelsey looked askance at Reid, who gave her his best poker face.
“Ry’s right,” he confirmed. “Bunch of family stuff.”
“Well…okay.” Kelsey bit her lip, looking around the room. “Where’s my other—”
“Right here.” Ryder came around the bed, thrusting the high heel into her hands.
He barely gave her a chance to put on her shoes and grab her purse before he hustled her out of the room and down the hallway.
Reid followed slowly, torn between amusement and sympathy for the flustered blonde. Ryder had never been one for subtlety.
At the front door, Kelsey sent him a hopeful look over her shoulder. “Will you call me?”
Ryder grimaced, running a hand through his mussed dark hair. “Probably not.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “What? But—”
Ryder patted her backside. “Run along now. Gotta bond with my big brother. Bros before hoes and all that.”
Kelsey gasped indignantly. “Are you calling me a—”
Ryder closed the door on her sputtered protests, then turned and grinned at Reid, who gave him a look of grave disappointment.
“Really, Ry? Bros before hoes?”
“What? You used to say that all the time.”
“Never to a chick’s face. C’mon, son, that’s a dick move. I taught you better than that.”
Ryder grinned and stuck out his palm. “Welcome home, bro.”
Reid grabbed his hand, then hauled him into one of their manly backslapping hugs, which always ended with him putting Ryder in an affectionate headlock and ruffling his hair until his brother pulled away laughing.
“Jesus.” Reid fanned a hand in front of his nose. “You smell like a fucking brothel.”
Ryder grinned. “You would know.”
Reid grunted, ignoring the unwelcome reminder. “Next time you hook up with that broad, tell her to lay off the cheap perfume.”
Ryder chuckled. “Didn’t you hear me? There won’t be a next time.”
Reid gave him a knowing look. “Another one and done, huh?”
“Can you blame me? Did you hear that voice?”
Reid cringed. “The whole state of Michigan probably heard that voice.”
Ryder laughed. “Seriously. Kelsey’s hot and all, but that voice is a deal breaker. And she’s way too theatrical for my taste.”
Reid cocked an eyebrow. “That’s a new one. Theatrical?”
“Yeah. In bed, you know, she’s really noisy and dramatic. Like she’s auditioning for a porno or something.” Ryder snorted, shaking his head. “I can deal with a screamer. Hell, I enjoy screamers. But that broad right there…shit, I’m gonna be hearing ‘Ride me, Rough Ryder’ in my fucking nightmares.”
Reid burst out laughing. “Rough Ryder?”
“Corny as hell, right?” His brother gave him a surly grin. “My poor dick almost shriveled up the first time she said that shit.”
Reid doubled over laughing, tears streaming down his face. That made Ryder start cracking up as well.
“We need to stop,” Reid choked out between howls of laughter. “That young lady…is someone’s daughter…sister…”
Ryder flagged him off. “Forget her. She’s nothing but an undercover puck bunny. Last night when I mentioned you were coming home, she got all swoony and excited. That’s probably why she insisted on spending the night—she was hoping to meet you. See how surprised she acted when she came out of the bathroom and saw you?” He snorted. “She deserves a fucking Oscar for that performance.”
“Damn.” Reid straightened, shaking his head. “That’s messed up.”
“No shit.” Ryder grinned before turning and sauntering off toward the kitchen. “Want a beer?”
“Sure.” Wiping tears of hilarity from his eyes, Reid followed his brother into an ultramodern kitchen that featured black marble counters, black slate floors, glass cabinets and stainless steel appliances. Large picture windows overlooked Ryder’s docked boat in a private marina.
He grabbed two bottles of Heineken from the fridge, unscrewed the caps and handed one to Reid. They grinned and clinked their bottles together.
“Cheers,” they chorused, then chugged down half their beer before letting out satisfied burps that made them both laugh. Something about being around his brother always brought out the frat boy in Reid.
Leaning back against the counter, Ryder asked casually, “Have you talked to Mom yet?”
“Nah.” Reid plopped down on a stool at the large center island. “She had a meeting this morning, so I’ll head over there when she gets home.”
“In that case, I should probably offer you something stronger to drink. ’Cause you’re gonna need it before you see her.”
Reid grunted and took another swig of beer.
“Seriously, man.” Ryder looked grim. “She’s not too thrilled about meeting Nadia tomorrow.”
“I know,” Reid said darkly. “Avery and Aria already warned me.”
Ryder frowned, shaking his head. “I don’t get it. I know Mom’s not a racist, but she seems really bothered about you having a black girlfriend.”
Reid sighed. “It’s because of Hanh.”
“Dad’s girlfriend?”
“Yeah. Remember how upset Mom was when Dad started dating her last year? The fact that he had a girlfriend was hard enough on Mom. But she felt even more rejected when she met Hanh and saw how different she was from her. Hanh’s Vietnamese, looks exotic, has a great career and she’s twenty years younger than Dad. Mom took one look at her and saw everything she’s not. She really took it personal, and now she’s projecting those same insecurities onto Nadia.”
“Damn. That’s fucked up.” Ryder gave him a sympathetic look. “Sucks to be you.”
“Tell me about it,” Reid muttered.
“Have you told Nadia how Mom feels?”
“Hell, no. She wouldn’t have agreed to come this weekend if she knew.”
Ryder grimaced. “Avery said she’s gonna talk to Mom, make sure she’s on her best behavior.”
“I appreciate that,” Reid said grimly. “I really don’t want to put her in her place, but I will if I have to.”
“I wouldn’t blame you.” Ryder downed a swig of beer, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “For what it’s worth, at least Nadia will get a warm reception tonight from the welcome committee you’re sending. Av and Ari are excited about meeting her.”
“I know,” Reid said with a soft smile. Thank God for his sisters.
“I gotta work tonight, but I can’t wait to meet her.” Ryder flashed a wide grin. “I have to bow at the feet of the Nubian goddess who’s got my brother so fucking whipped he doesn’t know up from down.”
Reid chuckled. “I’m not whipped.”
Hearing the lack of conviction in his voice, Ryder laughed and mimed cracking a whip, complete with sound effects.
Reid flipped him off, which only made Ryder laugh harder.
Just then they heard the front door open and close, followed by the deep rumble of their father’s voice calling out, “Hello? You boys home?”
“In the kitchen, Dad,” they called back. The Holdens were so close that they had keys to one another’s homes.
A few moments later, Roark Holden walked through the kitchen doorway.
“Hey, fellas, how ya doing?” He gave Ryder a quick hug and then pulled back, his nose wrinkling in distaste. “Why do you smell like you just dove into a vat of two-dollar perfume?”
Reid and Ryder laughed.
“It’s a parting gift from his date,” Reid drawled humorously.
“Really?” Roark frowned, shaking his head. “Can’t trust a woman who douses herself in that much perfume. A woman’s natural essence is the best aphrodisiac.”
“Amen,” Reid agreed, thinking of Nadia’s deliciously intoxicating scent.
He stood as his father came around the center island and gave him one of his big bear hugs, clapping him warmly on the back before pulling away to cup his cheek in his large palm.
“Good to see you, son.”
Reid grinned. “You too, Dad.”
Roark Holden was tall and strikingly handsome with broad shoulders and a lean, muscular physique he’d fastidiously maintained years after his hockey playing days were over. His thick hair had gone completely silver, and his eyes were the same piercing shade of blue he’d passed down to his sons. With his commanding height and distinguished good looks, he drew admiring stares wherever he went.
He looked between Reid and Ryder with an expression of deep pride and satisfaction. “It’s always good to have my boys back together.”
“Sure, Dad.” Ryder grinned, backing toward the doorway. “Hate to cut the reunion short, but I need to grab some breakfast and then hit the gym.”
Reid chuckled, sitting back down on the stool. “Don’t pick up any more Kelseys.”
Ryder laughed and flipped him the bird before heading off to his room to change.
Roark rubbed his big hands together. “I need a drink. Want one?”
“I’m good.” Reid held up the bottle of beer. “I have practice tonight.”
“Oh, that’s right.” His father disappeared into the butler’s pantry to pour himself a scotch on the rocks, his poison of choice. Since retiring from Ford, he’d been retained as a consultant to the company, a cushy gig with plenty of perks.
“Has your agent heard from the folks at Rocket Fiber?” he called out above the clinking sounds of ice and glass.
“Rocket Fiber?” Reid repeated blankly.
“Yeah. You know, that ultra-high-speed Internet service they launched for downtown and Midtown. I heard they’re interested in hiring you as a spokesman. It’s a clever marketing idea since your nickname’s The Rocket and you’re from Detroit. Getting The Rocket to endorse Rocket Fiber would be brilliant, a stroke of genius. So Kyle hasn’t mentioned anything?”
“Nah,” Reid said.
His father walked out of the butler’s pantry. “They probably wouldn’t be able to offer you as much as Nike and Gatorade. At least not yet. But I’m sure you could negotiate a deal that’s good enough to make it worth your while.” He took a sip of his scotch, then hummed a thoughtful note. “Maybe I should give Kyle a call—”
Reid chuckled. “No need, Dad. He’ll call me if he hears from anyone. He always does.”
“I know. Sorry.” Roark smiled sheepishly. “You know how I am. I’ve always been hands-on with your career.”
“I know. It’s okay.” Reid tipped back his bottle and drained the rest of his beer, then set the empty bottle down on the counter.
“So let’s see. You’re up to five endorsement deals now, right?” Roark ticked them off on his fingers. “Nike, Gatorade, Ford, Bauer and Goodyear. At the rate you’re going, you’ll catch up with Viggo in no time.”
“Doubtful.” Reid gave a dry chuckle. “But you’ve always cared more about that than I have.”
“Endorsement deals are important. That’s a source of revenue you’ll be earning years after you’ve retired from playing hockey. And you can invest some of that money in our sports bars.”
Reid grunted a reply.
His father chuckled, looking rueful. “But I know you didn’t call me over here to discuss business matters. That’s why you have a financial planner.” Sipping his scotch, Roark sat on the stool next to Reid. “So what’s on your mind, son? You said you had something to tell me. By the way, Hanh really wanted to see you. She didn’t understand why we couldn’t meet at my house instead of your brother’s.”
“I know,” Reid said apologetically. “I’ll see her at the game on Saturday.”
“Well, no, actually, you’ll see her tomor—”
“No, I won’t.”
Roark frowned, setting down his glass. “What do you mean?”
“That’s actually what I wanted to discuss with you.” Reid met his father’s quizzical gaze. “I don’t want you to bring Hanh to dinner tomorrow night.”
Roark’s eyes narrowed. “What?”
“I’d prefer that you leave her at home.”
“Why the hell would I do that?”
“Because I’m asking you to.”
“Why?”
Reid bit back an impatient sigh. “C’mon, Dad. You know how hard it is for Mom to see you with other women.”
Roark’s jaw tightened, his hand clenching around his glass. “No one’s stopping her from seeing other—”
“Don’t go there.” Reid’s voice was low, barely above a growl. “Don’t fucking go there, Dad. Not now. Not today.”
Anger vibrated between father and son. Anger sharpened by the pain of past grievances.
After several tense moments, Roark dragged an unsteady hand through his silvered hair and exhaled a frustrated breath. “I just don’t see why—”
“I’m bringing Nadia home to meet the family,” Reid cut him off. “It’s going to be stressful enough for her without the added tension between you and Mom and your girlfriend.”
Roark looked indignant. “So you get to bring your girlfriend around the family, but I can’t?”
Reid stared at his father, gritting his teeth to control his surging anger. “Do it for me, Dad. If not for the mother of your children, do it for me.”
Roark held his stony gaze for a strained moment, then scrubbed a hand across his jaw and nodded tersely. “Fine. I won’t bring Hanh.”
Reid inclined his head. “Thank you.”
Roark waved off his gratitude. “It’s probably for the best. I heard your mother’s not too happy about your relationship with Nadia. There’s no telling what she’s liable to say or do over dinner.”
Reid winced. “Thanks for that comforting thought.”
His father gave a grim chuckle, then expelled a heavy breath and looked down at his glass. After a reflective moment, he raised his head. Deep blue eyes searched Reid’s.
“So you’re really serious about this young lady?”
Reid gave a slow nod. “I am.”
“I see.” Roark lifted his glass, took a sip of his scotch. “I understand she works as a recruiter at some community college. That’s quite a coup for her, landing a rich hockey player. Talk about an upgrade.”
“I know what you’re getting at, Dad,” Reid said sardonically. “She’s not a gold digger.”
“How can you be so sure of that?”
“Because I am. I know her.” He’d given Nadia his platinum card and she’d refused to use it, not even to buy gas. He didn’t know any woman who would have showed that kind of restraint. Most women would have wasted no time burning through the card, racking up on extravagant frivolities. But Nadia hadn’t spent a dime.
His father fixed a steady gaze on him. “You have a robust investment portfolio, perfect credit, millions in the bank from your salary and endorsement deals and memorabilia contracts. Just think about that for a moment. Think of all that money you’ve earned and diligently saved up over the years. If you marry Nadia and things don’t work out, half of your wealth will go to her.”
Reid shook his head. “I’m not thinking that far ahead, Dad—”
“Maybe you should be. If you’re planning to propose to her—and I suspect you are—you’d better have an airtight prenup ready.”
Reid frowned. “If Nadia agrees to marry me—”
“If?”
Reid ignored his father’s sarcasm. “If and when we do get married, I’m not going into it with the jaded mindset that we’re going to break up. I’m not marrying her with one eye on the nearest exit. I’m playing for keeps, Dad. I plan to spend the rest of my life with her, raising a family, growing old together, watching our children and grandchildren come into their own.” He paused, his chest squeezing with longing for a future he’d never dreamed of before he met Nadia.
“As for my money,” he continued, his voice husky with emotion, “what’s mine is hers. In fact, I plan to give her the sun, moon and stars after we get married. It’s the least I can do for the woman I love, the woman who taught me that there’s even more to life than hockey.”
When he’d finished speaking, his father gave him a marveling look and slowly shook his head. “My God, son. I’ve never seen you this way over a woman before.”
“I’ve never felt this way,” Reid said gruffly. “Nadia means the world to me, Dad. I almost lost her once before. I won’t make that mistake again.”
For a moment his father’s gaze flickered with pain and regret. But a second later, a mask slid over his expression as if that moment, that flash of vulnerability, had never happened.
But Reid knew it had. And he knew all too well the source of his father’s suffering.
Quietly sipping his scotch, Roark stared off into the distance. “I wasn’t good enough to make the pros. But you were, son. And you didn’t just make it into the NHL. You came in guns blazing, determined to leave your mark and carve out your place in history. And you have. Everyone agrees that you’ve already made a tremendous impact on professional hockey. If you stay healthy, you can play for several more years. But it goes even beyond what you’ve accomplished on the ice, Reid. You’ve got what it takes to transcend the game, to leave a lasting legacy in this world.” Roark’s expression softened, becoming almost wistful. “As much as I try not to live vicariously through you, there’s a part of me that always will. So I guess I don’t want to see you taking any risks that will jeopardize the dream. Yours…and mine.”
Reid was silent, staring down at the black marble counter. Not for the first time, he felt the weight, the responsibility, the burden of being his father’s son, savior and last best hope.
After a while, Roark turned his head and studied Reid for a long moment, his expression astute and assessing. “So she’s really the one, huh?”
“Yes, sir. She is.”
His father’s large hand settled on his shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry about your mother. Everything’s gonna be all right.”
“I know,” Reid said with quiet conviction. “As long as I have Nadia by my side, nothing else matters.”
His father’s face softened.
After another moment he smiled and reached up, ruffling Reid’s hair the way he’d done when he was a little boy.
“Can’t wait to meet her, son. Can’t wait.”