Make It Sweet

I wrapped her up in my arms and grunted, wanting to tell her how much she meant to me but unable to form any actual words.

“I’ll do the charity event,” was what I ended up saying.

She kissed the center of my chest. “You’re a good man, Lucian. And I’m proud of you.”

I couldn’t understand why she would be; all I’d done with my life was play hockey to the best of my ability, but I’d take her praise and hold it close. I didn’t know how long we stood there; it felt so good I had no inclination to move. But eventually, she eased back.

“Come on then; let me see how fast you can go.”

“You want me to show off for you, Em?”

“I do.”

“Well then.” I pushed off and did just that.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Emma

The Raston fundraiser took place in Los Angeles, with a daytime skate and greet for the children and an evening dinner for all the donors. Lucian fell silent and tense on the drive down, but every so often, he’d reach out and rest his hand on my knee, as if to say he was still there with me.

I left him to his solitude, knowing that sometimes you had to work through some things yourself. If he needed me, I’d be here. By the time we arrived at the Staples Center, his leg bounced in an agitated rhythm as he scowled at the looming stadium.

“Hey,” I said before we pulled up to the valet service, which was parking cars for other players.

Wintergreen eyes shadowed under severe brows looked my way. I wondered if he truly saw me in his disquiet. In deference to his beloved sport’s rules, he wore a light-gray suit and ice-blue tie, which made him both devastatingly handsome and closed off.

“You got this.” I touched his bouncing knee. “They love you.”

Pale and pinched around the mouth, he stared at me, then blinked once. As if coming out of a trance, he took a long breath and gave me a tight smile. “I’m okay, Snoop.”

I didn’t think either of us was fooled, but he would be okay. I believed that much. I had to.

We went our separate ways once inside, Lucian instantly hailed and surrounded by his former teammates and fellow hockey players as I was ushered to a VIP section roped off for players’ guests.

“Who are you here for?” asked a woman around my age with gorgeous raven hair that fell in a glossy sheet down her slim back. She looked familiar, but I couldn’t place her.

“Lucian,” I said, and she frowned, clearly not recognizing his name. “Luc Osmond.”

Her expression cleared, and she smiled wide. “Oz is here? Really?”

“Yes.”

“Oh my God, I’m so happy to hear that. We’ve really missed him, you know?”

Pride surged through me, and I found myself smiling back. Beaming, really. Because she was obviously excited, and Lucian was my man.

The woman stuck out her hand. “I’m May Chan. Drexel Harris is my husband.”

We shook hands, when her name finally sank in. “Not the May Chan who owns Daisy Chain?”

“The very one.”

I’d shopped at one of her vintage clothing stores a few times but had seen her only from afar. “I love your place. You have the best clothes.”

May eyed my vintage 1940s A-line dress in dark-blue linen with little embroidered maroon butterflies on the bodice and grinned. “That’s from Daisy Chain, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

“Another satisfied customer. Just what I love to see.”

Our laughs cut short as the program began. The lights dimmed, and onto the ice came the hockey players, each of them escorted by a child on skates. It looked so damned cute, I found myself clapping and grinning wide. The players were announced in alphabetical order. As they neared Lucian’s name, my insides clenched in anticipation.

The moment Lucian glided onto the ice, holding the hand of a little girl with a dark ponytail and a beaming smile, the stadium erupted into a ruckus of cheers. Goose pimples prickled over my skin.

He really did look like a man mountain in full gear, huge and eternal. His smile was the same tight one he’d given me before we’d parted, but as he continued to wave, and the crowd continued to holler and cheer, a real smile broke free—fleeting and shy—and my eyes burned with unshed tears.

“He looks good,” May observed.

Of course he did. But it struck me that people might have assumed that Lucian had been diminished and sickly upon retirement. Is that what he feared they’d see when he came here? Either way, he was right in guessing that a lot of attention would be directed his way.

But he didn’t show any tension as he took his place with the others, and they soon started a mock game, the guys working with the kids. I spotted Brommy and Anton on the ice, each of them helping out their own kid. But my eyes mainly stayed on Lucian. God, he was so good with the little girl he’d been paired with. Good with all of them.