Las Vegas Sidewinders: Brock Page 7
Brock listened to his friends talking about their various relationship experiences and wasn’t sure what to think. Guys like Cody and Toli were in relationships he envied. Their wives were beautiful, smart, and independent; they didn’t cling or whine about life as the wife of a professional athlete. Others, like Tore, were too young to be ready for anything like that. Finally, there were some he didn’t know very well, like Ian and Dax.
“You really married Ashleigh Hunter?” Ian’s green eyes were confused but guileless.
“Yup.” Brock was uncomfortable, hating that he might have to lie to his teammates if they asked too many questions.
“Why do you look funny then?”
Brock considered what he should say, wanting to stay as close to the truth as possible, and opted for an issue that had truly been on his mind. “She’s adopting a kid, something that’s been in the works since before we hooked up. I like kids, but I’m a little nervous about stepping into the role of dad to an eight-year-old. How do I do that? I mean, what if I’m not good at it?”
Cody shook his head. “No one knows if they’re going to be good at parenting—you just jump in with both your eyes and your heart open. The biggest asset you have is love, my friend. That’s all they need…both kids and women.” He turned, hitting the ball with his head, sending it past the goalie and getting a round of applause from the rest of the team.
“And remember,” Viggo Sjoberg whispered as they started to head back to the locker room, “anything worth having will be a lot of work.”
Brock glanced at him, nodding. “Yeah, I’m sure you’re right.”
Viggo smiled, falling into step next to Brock. The tall, redheaded Swede was one of two openly bisexual players in the league, and his boyfriend, Jamie Teller, had been a Sidewinder, too. After being traded to Ottawa, Jamie had been attacked and left for dead, the word “faggot” carved into his back with a knife. Viggo had been by his side ever since, and they’d come out together. They still didn’t know if Jamie would play hockey again—his injuries had been that severe—but Viggo stood staunchly at his side, weathering the constant media attention and ribbing from players on other teams without batting an eyelash. Brock had a lot of respect for both of them. He’d never loved anyone enough to be that strong. He didn’t know if he had it in him to love that way again, and that was perhaps his biggest fear in giving both marriage and parenthood a try.
“Don’t worry, my friend.” Viggo put a beefy hand on Brock’s shoulder. “We’re all here for you if you need advice. In the meantime, follow your heart and you’ll be fine.”
“Thanks.” For some reason, that made him feel better, and he made sure the only thing on his mind right now was hockey. He’d deal with everything else later.
10
Scoring the game-winning goal was the perfect distraction, and Brock appreciated it as he and the team filed back to the locker room. The press was waiting, as usual, and he was grateful to have something other than his marriage to talk about. In fact, he’d hoped he might get away from any questions about Ashleigh at all until just before the end.
“Brock, is it true you got married yesterday?” someone called out.
Brock could see Becca Hernandez-Lamonte, the team’s head of media relations, nearby and watching intently. She’d spoken with him before the game, telling him to be light-hearted and casual, and to try not to give too much detail this soon into the relationship.
“It sure is.” He gave the reporter his trademark smirk.
“Are you going to get traded to the Kings?” someone asked.
Brock blinked. “Geez, guys, no. This is my team, my home, and my career. Ashleigh and I will have to go back and forth during hockey season, but our priority is our foster daughter. She needs to be in school with a stable home life, so we’re going to do what’s best for her, even if it’s a little more complicated for us.”
“How old is your foster daughter?”
“Are you adopting her?”
“Is Ashleigh pregnant?”
“Guys, hang on.” Becca stepped in, holding up a hand. “It’s getting late, so let’s save questions about Brock’s foster daughter for family day. Are there any other questions about the game?”
Brock took the opportunity to escape, mentally chiding himself for even bringing Bella up. He’d had no idea they would fixate on her; he’d been sure they’d want to talk about Ashleigh. Maybe he wasn’t cut out to be a father at all.
“You did good,” Cody said as they pulled off equipment. “By moving the conversation to Bella, they left you and Ashleigh alone, and then when Becca called them out on asking personal questions about a kid, it was over.”
“It felt smarmy,” Brock muttered. “Like I threw her under the bus to save myself.”
“Nah. You made the best of a tricky situation. The worst is over. Well, from the perspective of the public. Not sure what’s going on when you go home tonight.”
Brock winced. “Me either.”
Brock and Ashleigh walked out to his truck without talking, each lost in their own thoughts and the need to get away as quickly as possible. The press was around, but security was tight and they got into the vehicle without incident.
“So…” She was the one to break their silence. “Did you talk to your mom?” He’d mentioned he was going to call her on the way to the game.
He chuckled. “Yup. She thinks we’re crazy but wants to meet you. She’s a big fan of Vampire Legend.”
Ashleigh groaned. “Oh god, she probably thinks I’m some crazy Hollywood type.”
“She’ll make a decision when she meets you, not before.”
“That’s nice to know.” She smiled when he opened the door of his truck for her and slid into the passenger seat.
They were quiet again for a few minutes before he reached out to take her hand. He felt a slight resistance and glanced at her. “Does my touch bother you now that we’re married?”
“No.” She looked down at their hands. “I like it. That’s the problem.”
He glanced at her. “How is that a problem?”
“I’m trusting you with everything that’s important to me—my home, my reputation, my heart, and Bella. You’re getting access to everything I normally keep private, and that’s the scariest thing I’ve ever done.”
He hadn’t thought about it in those terms, and hearing her say it made him a little ashamed of how casually he’d been treating the whole situation.
“I won’t hurt you, babe. I told you that. I want to help with Bella, and even though we didn’t plan it, it feels like we did the right thing for a little girl who doesn’t have anyone else to take care of her.”
She paused. “You’re awfully sweet for a guy who says he’s not.”
He stared straight ahead. “I’m a good guy except with relationships. I don’t know if I’m any good at them.”
They fell quiet yet again before she asked, “How are we going to do this? To be honest, I’m overwhelmed.”
“As long as we communicate, and make sure we’re open with each other, it’s going to be fine.”
“There’s so much to talk about.”
“I know.”
“I have to tell you something.”
“Okay.”
“I… Um, shit.” She stared out the passenger side window and blew out a breath. “I mentioned this before, but we weren’t married then.”
“You don’t like sex.”
“No, not particularly.”
“So you’re not interested in having sex with me.”
“I’m interested, but we’re going to have to work up to it.”
He arched his brows. “Meaning?”
“I want—no, I need—you to put some effort into getting me into bed. I don’t mean presents and stuff, because I can buy my own jewelry and purses; I’m talking about taking the time to get to know me, taking me out on dates…and most of all showing me you respect me.”
“Respect you?” He was shocked by that stat
ement. “I wouldn’t marry someone I didn’t respect, no matter how drunk I was. Have you had boyfriends that didn’t respect you?”
She snorted. “You think? I’m a blonde actress on a hit TV show. Everyone assumes I’m dumb and easy.”
“I don’t think that, hon.” He stroked the soft skin of her hand with his thumb, moving in slow circles until he felt her relax a little. “I think you’re beautiful, hard-working, and loyal. You have a big heart and you’re a special human being, taking on this situation with Bella. Who wouldn’t respect you?”
“Lots of guys; trust me.”
“They’re idiots.”
“Can you wait, Brock? Can you wait for me to be ready? It might take a while for me to get to a point where I’m willing to try.” She still wouldn’t look at him but was aware he was nodding.
“I don’t know what happened with other the other guys you’ve been with, but sex isn’t about just getting off… I mean, it is—” He cut off with a laugh. “Of course, I want to get off, and that’s the climax, pardon the pun, but it’s not the whole purpose.”
“Isn’t it?” She cut her eyes to him in confusion. “Isn’t getting off the whole purpose? The orgasm is the part that feels good, so that’s the end game.”
He shook his head. “Yes and no. Yes, the orgasm part is the crazy, erotic ending to a wild ride, but the journey getting there is important, too. When a woman goes down on me, I don’t just pump into her mouth a few times and come. The whole time her mouth is on me, kissing, licking, sucking? The whole experience is fantastic. I love the feel of a woman’s lips on me, and I enjoy it from start to finish. Don’t you enjoy when a guy goes down on you?”
She shrugged. “To a degree. It’s the only way I can have an orgasm unless I’m by myself, but even with oral, it’s usually…messy…and embarrassing.”
“Messy?” He sounded baffled. “What kinds of guys have you slept with? It’s not messy. Well, maybe a little, but not in a bad way, and why is it embarrassing?”
She glanced over at him. “Look, I’m probably just bad at it, okay? My mom all but forced me to have sex when I was fifteen. She said being a virgin at fifteen was ridiculous and I should hurry the hell up and become a woman. I did it, but I’ve mostly hated it ever since. I just wanted you to know, so you’re not disappointed or anything.”
“I…” He shook his head. “The only thing I can say is, when you get to a point you trust me enough, I’m going to show you it’s not messy—not too messy anyway—and it’s anything but embarrassing. It’s sexy and fun and I seem to recall the sounds you made when we were making out the other night. You didn’t sound embarrassed, and it definitely wasn’t messy.”
She smiled. “No, it wasn’t. I liked it, but kissing is different.”
“It’s not. It’s exactly the same, except making love is so much better and more intense.”
“Maybe it’s the intensity I don’t like.”
“Maybe you just haven’t been made love to by a man who gives a shit about more than getting off.”
“Maybe I haven’t.”
“I’m willing to bet anything you want that I can find your G-spot with nothing but my finger and make you come so hard you’ll forget your name.”
She narrowed her eyes playfully. “So you make me come with your fingers and I get anything I want?”
He grinned. “Honey, when I make you come, you’re going to give me anything I want.”
She rolled her eyes. “We’ll see about that, big guy.”
“Well, I guess that’s two hundred and fifty.”
“What?” She blinked at him in confusion.
“Problem number two hundred and fifty for us to work on. We were at two hundred and forty-nine earlier, right?”
She laughed just as her phone rang and she frowned. “It’s Jolinda,” she murmured, referring to Bella’s nanny as she picked it up. “Hey, is everything okay? What? Dammit, I knew it was a bad idea… No, it’s not your fault. I’m going to call. Thanks for letting me know.” She hung up and dialed Angel’s number, drumming her fingers on her thigh in annoyance. When Angel didn’t answer, she left a message, “Angel, it’s Ashleigh. I agreed to let you see Bella for a few hours on your birthday but she was supposed to be home by nine and Jolinda said you haven’t brought her. Understand I’m currently her legal guardian. If you don’t have her home in the next thirty minutes, I’ll call the police and you’ll go to jail. Call me back—now!” She hung up and turned to Brock apologetically. “I’m sorry, I have to go… Angel didn’t bring Bella home and this could get ugly if I have to call the cops.”
“What do we have to do?”
“Brock, you don’t—”
“Yeah, I do.” He looked at her. “You’re my wife now, and she’s my kid. If there’s trouble, I’m involved no matter what.”
She swallowed. “I have to go get her.”
“It’ll take us a minimum of three and a half hours if I go straight to the highway right now and we don’t hit traffic in L.A. We might be able to get a flight but even then, how long will it take us to get to her once we land?”
“I don’t know.” She threw her hands up.
“Can you call Rachel?”
“Angel and her boyfriend live in a bad neighborhood. I can’t ask Rachel to go there.”
“Should we call the cops?” Brock asked slowly.
“I don’t want to do anything to call attention to the situation if I don’t have to,” Ashleigh admitted. “You never know how things look to a judge—maybe he’ll think I was negligent for letting her go to Angel’s while I was out of town eloping. If I can get her home safely without involving cops, I’d rather do that, but I won’t hesitate if I think she’s in danger.”
“Then I guess we’re driving to L.A. Do we need to stop at the apartment to get your stuff?”
She shook her head. “No. There’s nothing there I don’t have at home.”
Brock turned toward the highway.
11
They crossed into Los Angeles County about three hours later, and Ashleigh jerked awake when Brock called her name, asking for directions. As they exited the 110 freeway onto Normandie, Ashleigh texted Bella to tell her they were close.
“Where the hell are we?” Brock grunted, staring out the window at the ghetto-like neighborhood.
“Welcome to L.A.,” she said.
“Jesus, this is the scariest place I’ve ever been,” Brock muttered under his breath, glancing out the window dubiously as they drove down dark streets spattered with young men wearing what looked like gang attire on every corner.
“Why do you think I want her out of here?” Ashleigh asked.
“Did you hear from Bella? Is she ready to go?”
“Yeah. I guess Angel and Tito passed out.”
“Jesus.”
“Look, I’ll go up, knock on the door, grab her, and we’ll get out of here.”
“You think it’s going to be that easy?” He met her gaze.
“If you think there’s going to be trouble,” she whispered as he pulled to a stop. “Call the police. Otherwise, be ready to drive like a bat out of hell.”
“You can bet on that,” he said.
She hurried up the stairs toward the apartment. Sending up a silent prayer for courage, she knocked on the door. She was about to knock again when it opened a crack and one tiny blue eye peeked out.
“Hi, sweetie.” Ashleigh leaned forward speaking softly. “Ready to go?”
Bella nodded shyly, slipping out the door with a teddy bear in one hand and a backpack that was stuffed to the gills on her back.
“Do you, um, want me to talk to Angel?”
Bella shook her head back and forth vehemently.
“Then we should go.” Ashleigh took Bella’s hand. “Come on.”
They hurried to the truck, jumping in the passenger side as Brock immediately pulled away.
“Angel’s gonna be mad,” Bella whispered, burying her face in Ashleigh’s chest.
&
nbsp; “No, she won’t. I’ll talk to her.”
“She said you’re stealing me away from her.” Bella was still whispering. “She said I love you more than her because of all your money but that’s not true. I love you ’cause you’re nice!”
“I know, honey.” Ashleigh continued stroking her hair. “Don’t worry about anything. I’ll talk to Angel and everything will be fine.”
“Tito got mad when she said she was going to take me home.”
“Why did he get mad?” Brock spoke finally.
“He said the bimbo’s bank account could support all of us. What’s a bimbo, Ashleigh?”
Brock snorted.
“It’s not a nice word, but it refers to an attractive woman who isn’t very smart.” Ashleigh glanced at Brock, who was scowling.
“I’m sorry, Ashleigh.” Bella was whispering.
“What are you sorry about?”
“I shouldn’t have gone to see Angel today. She was mad again, yelling and telling me bad things about you. Why does she hate you?”
“She’s sad because she thinks she’s losing you,” Ashleigh said softly, rocking her slightly.
“I don’t want to see her anymore,” Bella whispered back. “Tito scares me and Angel is mean when she’s with him.”
“You don’t have to see her if you don’t want to.” Ashleigh met Brock’s eyes across the seat. “And anyway, I have a surprise for you.”
“You do?” Bella looked at her curiously. “What is it?”
“Remember me telling you about my friend Brock?”
Bella nodded. “He sent me the tiara.”
“This is Brock.” Ashleigh motioned to him. “And we got married yesterday.”
“You got married?” Bella’s eyes rounded and she looked from one to the other. “Does that mean…” She frowned.
“What, honey?”
“Does that mean he’s going to be my dad now?”
A million emotions burst through Ashleigh’s chest as she stared down into Bella’s innocent blue eyes. She wanted so much to give Bella the family she craved, with both a mother and a father, but she could only make promises for herself. Anything else was out of her control.