Hope you have what we need, old man, Mac thought, as the rest of the team followed him onto the ice. Hellfire, his arm was already throbbing and he’d yet to smack a puck.
Maybe Rory was right and playing wasn’t such a great idea. He swung his injured arm and only sheer force of will kept him from grimacing. The team physio had strapped his arm to give it extra support but the straps were misaligned and, he was afraid, doing more harm than good.
Crapdammithell!
“McCaskill!”
Mac spun on his skates and there she stood, a resigned look on her face. His heart bumped and settled as he skated toward her. She stood next to a large man who looked familiar, and it took Mac a minute to place him. His nurse from The Annex...what was his name? Troy? Unlike Rory, Troy was wearing a huge smile and his gaze bounced from player to player in the manner of a true fan.
Mac stopped at the boards in front of Rory and sent her a slow smile. Damn, he’d missed her.
“Thanks for coming,” he said, wishing he could take her into his arms, kiss her senseless. He wanted, just for a moment, to step out of these skates, out of the arena and into the heat of her mouth, to feel her pliant, slim, sexy body beneath his hands. Huh. That had never happened before. Skating, hockey, the ice...nothing could normally top that.
Mac looked at Rory, arms folded across her chest, her expression disapproving. That didn’t worry him; he’d learned to look for the emotion in her eyes. Those gray depths told him everything he needed to know about how she was feeling. Yeah, she was worried, but resigned. A little scared, but he could see that she was trying to trust him, trying to push aside her intellect to give him the benefit of the doubt.
Rory narrowed her amazing eyes at him. “I’m not for one moment condoning this, and if you do any more damage I will personally kick your ass.”
Deeply moved—he understood how hard this was for her—he sent her a crooked grin, silently thanking her for taking this chance on him, on them.
Rory, stubborn as always, tried to look stern but her eyes lightened with self-deprecating humor. And, as always, there was a hint of desire. For the first time, he easily recognized tenderness in her steady gaze.
And concern. She was so damned worried about him. When last had someone cared this much? Never? Mac felt his heart thump, unaccustomed to feeling saturated with emotion.
“Noted,” Mac gruffly said, needing a moment to regroup. Or ten. Pulling in a deep breath he pulled off his glove with his teeth and held out his hand for Troy to shake. “Good to see you.”
Troy pumped his hand with an enthusiasm that had Mac holding back a wince. “You play?” he asked Troy.
Troy nodded. “College.”
“When we’re finished with the practice match, maybe you’d like to borrow some skates and join us on the ice?” Mac asked.
Troy looked delighted. “Awesome. My gear is in the car so I don’t need to borrow a thing. Wow. Awe. Some.”
Rory rolled her eyes and looked at Mac again. “You okay?”
“Pretty much. Better now that you are here.” Mac looked over the ice to the other side of the rink, where Kade and Quinn were still in deep conversation with the investor. Quinn didn’t look like he was about to call the team to order anytime soon. “Speaking of, can I borrow you for a sec?”
Rory nodded and he pushed open the hinge board and stepped off the ice. He sat on a chair and looked up at Troy. “It’s great that you are so damn big, dude.”
Troy grinned and made a production of fluttering his eyes at him. “I didn’t think you noticed.”
“Cut it out, Troy,” Rory muttered.
Mac laughed and jerked his thumb toward Rory. “She’s more my type. But I do need you to stand in front of me so Quinn and Kade, and especially that small old guy, can’t see me.”
Troy, smart guy, immediately moved into position. “Like this?”
“That works.” Mac pulled off his jersey and leaned down and grabbed Rory’s bag, holding it out to her. “I need you to re-tape my arm. The team physio did it but he’s done something wrong, it’s hurting like a bitch.”
Rory looked like she was about to say “I told you so,” and he appreciated her effort to swallow the words. While he ripped the stabilizing tape off his arm with his other hand, taking quite a bit of arm hair with it, Rory pulled out another roll of tape. He groaned when he saw that it was bright pink. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“Consider it my silent protest,” Rory said, a smile touching her mouth. She was still worried about him. He could see it in her eyes, in her tight smile. But she cut the tape into strips and carefully ran the tape over his biceps and elbow, her eyes narrowed in concentration.