Wild Zone (Rough Riders Hockey 4)

“Dude, I can’t change—”

“I’m not saying you can or you should,” Beckett said. “I’m just saying that if it was that good and if she’s here for two weeks, then why don’t you think about getting as much of that good as you can while she’s here?”

“Because you know me, Beck. You know after two weeks with her—”

“That’s not true. If you fell deep for every girl you slept with, you’d have been married fifty times.” Tate sent him a look, and Beckett amended, “Okay, twenty times. Whatever. My point is that you don’t fall hopelessly in love with every woman. Look what you’ve already done. You had one hell of a night and you’re already resigned to putting her into your memory banks. You have the ability to have a short, casual relationship with a predetermined end date without heartache if you frame it that way in your mind ahead of time.”

Maybe with someone he hadn’t connected with so immediately. Or so completely. Maybe with someone who wasn’t quite so delicious. Or so sweet. Or so devilish. Or so sexy. Or a hundred other things he’d already come to either love or admire about her. But Olivia was a little too much of everything all wrapped into one woman. Sure, he knew there was a lot to learn about her. But he’d also had enough girlfriends and been around long enough to know how to spot the important things. Not to mention his painful divorce to a shitty woman, which taught him all those things to watch out for, all those things not to do.

All in all, Tate’s gut knew that seeing Olivia again was dangerous to his heart.

He also knew his heart was flipping somersaults at the idea.

One of the kids skated past them backwards, imitating Tate’s and Beckett’s frequent threat in a comical attempt at a baritone, “Gonna make you do sprints if your late, boys.”

“Good idea, Blake,” Tate called after the kid, his own true baritone echoing through the rink and drawing all the kids’ gazes. “Blake wants to do sprints. Great warm up. Everyone, go.”

All the kids groaned, slowly falling into line, starting sprints across the ice.

“That’ll teach him to be a smartass,” Tate said, grinning at the kids ribbing Blake.

Beckett gripped Tate’s shoulder and shoved him out on the ice with a good natured, “There’s my team captain.” He tossed Tate a hockey stick and they glided toward center ice. “Just think about it. And it wouldn’t hurt if you could talk her into taking the wedding job either.”

Tate rolled his eyes and stuck the stick out, hooking one of the kids around the waist and pulling him from the sprint, making the ten year old laugh so hard the kid fell on his ass.

That made Tate feel better. To get Beckett to leave him alone, Tate offered a non-committal, “I’ll think about calling her.”

Which would be difficult given he didn’t have her number, and getting it would require conversations he’d rather not have with people he’d rather not have them with.

Nearby, Beckett hooked another kid, and another young boy fell into a laughing mess onto the ice. God, Tate loved this camp. But he knew it wasn’t just the kids bringing out this joy. Olivia had broken through some wall inside him, allowing it out.

Beckett grinned over at Tate. “For a woman who put a smile on my face like the one you’re wearing right now, I’d do a lot more than call.”

Olivia was jerked from sleep when her bed rolled like a boat in a storm.

“I can’t wait anymore.” Quinn’s voice immediately oriented Olivia.

She was home—in the states. She was in DC, sleeping in the room she and Quinn had shared their entire young lives. Right up until Olivia had left home for Europe after their Dad had died. And Quinn was bouncing on her bed to wake her up, the way she had for years.

“You can’t sleep all day,” Quinn said. “I haven’t seen you in a year. Wake. Up.”

“Oh my God,” Olivia groaned and pulled the pillow over her head, laughing a muffled “Go away.

But she couldn’t deny the sweet sense of nostalgia swamping her as Quinn continued to bounce, and Olivia continued to laugh.

“Mom,” Olivia yelled, “make Quinn stop!”

“Mom’s not going to save you Livvy. You…need…to…wake…up.” She punctuated each of the words with a bounce.

“Oh, Quinn.” Their mother’s amused voice entered the room. “Let her sleep. She got in late and she worked hard last night.”

She’d also been worked over hard last night. Olivia had never realized so much pleasure could be so exhausting.

“I’m awake. Stop bouncing, or I’m going to puke on you.” Olivia threw the pillow at her sister and said, “What do you want?”

Quinn just grinned at her with that million-fucking-dollar smile. The one Olivia lost when their dad died and their family fell apart. The one she hadn’t been able to find since, no matter what corner of the world she’d searched.

Though, she might have caught a sparkle of it last night.