Page 9

It was too cold.

She was wearing the absolute wrong shoes for visiting the ice rink, but in her defense, she hadn’t expected she’d have to sit here.

Leslie, however, felt that someone from the PR team should observe the first training session with new recruit Jack West so that she could write a press release about how he was fitting in with the team—and to ensure that Dax didn’t go for Jack’s throat.

She had been the lucky first choice for this task. So, here she was, freezing her ass off for an hour just to watch Dax ignore Jack as much as possible. It wasn’t exactly blockbuster cinema, but she was happy that she could at least get some work done on the side. She took care of some pressing business, like Dax’s photo op at the children’s hospital coming up that week. They needed a list of questions that Dax could easily answer during an interview. Dax needed to come across as a friendly guy, no sweat, instead of what he really was: a guy whose head was filled with nothing but thoughts of revenge against Jack West.

“Is this seat free?”

Lucy blinked and glanced up. As if she had conjured him with her thoughts alone, Jack West stood in front of her, looking down at her expectantly.

“Shouldn’t you be on the ice?” she asked, nodding toward the other players who were still working the course.

West shrugged. “Everyone deserves a little break. Especially hard-working people like me.”

She raised one corner of her mouth. “I’m sure the coaches see it differently, but sure, sit next to me, even if the entire bleacher section is free. Go ahead and be one of those strange people who sit in the seat directly opposite you on the train, even though the rest of the compartment is completely unoccupied.”

He grinned widely and flopped down next to her. “Thank you for the kind invitation.”

“Always,” she replied cheerfully, wrapping the blanket tighter around her legs as she stared at the ice. Dax was conquering the course, the puck tight against his stick as if it was glued to it.

Many people claimed that ice hockey was a brutal sport because too often the players’ fists flew, and they constantly crashed into the boards—sticks striking, shoulder against shoulder.

Lucy had a different opinion. Ice hockey was pure elegance. No one showcased this aspect of the sport better than Dax Temple. He didn’t just skate across the ice, he danced in a self-imposed rhythm that most opponents couldn’t keep up with. It didn’t matter whether she liked him or not; whenever she saw him on the ice, a nervous awe filled her chest that made her hands clammy and the back of her neck tingle. Because if a man could move so smoothly on two thin runners, then he had to be talented in other physical areas.

“He was always better than me at keeping the puck close to his body,” Jack murmured absently.

Lucy turned her head in surprise.

“I’ve never admitted it. Not as an opponent in the arena and especially not as a cocky teenager, but…he’s like a magnet. If the puck is his, the puck belongs to him.”

There was genuine admiration in his voice, which stunned Lucy. Most hockey players found it difficult to even acknowledge their shortcomings to themselves, let alone say them out loud. Oh no, that wasn’t just limited to hockey players! This rule applied to all people. Jack, however, didn’t seem to have a problem with it.

“Do you know what’s sad?” he murmured, glancing sideways at Lucy. “Today I wouldn’t have a problem telling him, but right now, Dax wouldn’t take it as a compliment because he no longer feels the desire to impress me. Today he would think I was using words to manipulate him: trying to back him into forgiveness.”

Lucy blinked several times. Finally, she asked, “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you’re the only one I can tell,” he stated, a bitter note in his voice. “You are the only one here who knows that Dax and I have much more in common than a love for ice hockey. Correct? Because you heard the whole argument yesterday.”

She swallowed and a guilty conscience immediately gnawed at her again. “I won’t tell anyone,” she whispered hastily. “Really, I won’t. I gave Dax my word and I will keep it.”

He nodded, unimpressed. “I know.”

“You know?” she echoed, taken aback. “How could you know? You don’t know me.”

“No, but I trust Dax’s instincts about people. And his desperate desire to keep everyone from finding out we are related.”

“Oh, okay,” she said slowly, closing the laptop. “Then why are you sitting next to me, if not to make sure I’m going to keep your secret?”

“That’s a good question, Lucy.” He narrowed his eyes. “I think I was hoping you could tell me something about him.”

She turned her head in surprise. “Tell you what?”

“Anything,” he murmured. “Something to help me understand him better. Figure out how to make him stop hating me.”

She laughed. “You’re asking the wrong person. I’m still failing at that myself—Dax hates me more than he hates you, even.”

“No, that’s not true,” Jack said seriously. “Dax doesn’t hate you.”

Heat spread to her cheeks. “Okay, probably not. But…it’s not like we get along well, either.”

“Okay,” Jack said vaguely, staring at her skeptically as if he didn’t believe her.

“Even if I knew something that could help you, I wouldn’t tell you,” she added hastily. “What’s going on between you is…” She stopped and cleared her throat. “Is your business. I don’t want to get caught in the crossfire.”

Jack nodded. “Because your loyalty lies with him?”

She opened her mouth but didn’t know how to respond. That was an interesting question. A week ago, she would have said it was nonsense.

Now, however, she was keeping Dax’s secret for him. Now she had his respect… Now, for some reason, she didn’t know anything anymore.

“I get it,” Jack murmured.

Well, at least one of them did.

As if on autopilot, her gaze flew back to the ice and she was shocked to see Dax staring at them. His gaze was sour as a glass of milk left out in the California sun for too long.

“Um, why is Dax staring at us like we ran over his favorite hockey stick?” she asked curiously.

Jack waved his hand. “Oh, because I told him I was going to hit on you.”

“Oh.” She blinked at him in surprise. “But you’re not going to?”

“No.”

“Why not?” she exclaimed.

He smiled, amused. “Do you want me to hit on you, Lucy?”

“God, no.” Her cheeks immediately grew a little redder. She frowned. “Um, sorry, I’m sure you’re a nice guy, but I don’t date players.”

“Yes, so I’ve heard. I probably would have flirted with you anyway just because you’re funny and I like flirting, but…no.” He grinned widely. “I believe if I went out with you, Dax might….” He trailed off. “It just wouldn’t be worth it. So, instead, I’ll just stick with pissing him off by making him believe I’m flirting with you.”

She looked at him suspiciously. “If you went out with me, Dax might what?” she asked sharply. “And you are making him angry on purpose? I thought you wanted him to stop hating you.”

“Oh, I do,” he replied honestly. “But he’s still my brother, whether he likes it or not, and I couldn’t resist.” He shrugged helplessly. “Besides, it’s better to make him angry than to get no reaction from him at all.”

“Are you certain of that?” she asked doubtfully.

“Yup,” he answered firmly, then looked over and regarded her thoughtfully. “Did Dax tell you anything about his childhood?”

She gave him a knowing look. “Of course not. He doesn’t tell anyone anything about his childhood. Which, I guess, is why no one knows you’re brothers.”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I can’t blame him. I don’t like talking about it either. But Dax has always been a…very emotional person. A hothead, impulsive, and arrogant on the ice.”

“You don’t say. I can’t imagine that at all,” she replied dryly.

Jack raised one corner of his mouth. “It was balancing for him. At home he could never do what he wanted, so that’s all he did away from home. At home he was the angel. He had to be to keep Anna, Mom, and me out of trouble. But at school, on the ice…” He shrugged. “The nickname Devil is no coincidence. But it doesn’t matter. Whenever his father heard about any of Dax’s escapades, it didn’t end well.”

The blood left Lucy’s face and her breathing paused.

“He didn’t hit him or anything,” Jack replied hastily, seeing the horror on Lucy’s face. “But there are other ways to make a child feel worth less than a damn. I wasn’t really his son, so it never bothered me when Temple Senior was an asshole. But he had power over Dax, which he exploited. Dax was furious with his father because of it. Always angry. But at some point…he stopped being angry.”

“Why?” she whispered, her voice almost lost in the sound of dozens of runners on ice.

“Because I told him that it was his anger that was giving his father power,” Jack replied coolly. “Because I knew he would only get better once he learned to let go of the anger and replace it with indifference. That he should ignore the people he truly hates. And that it’s only worth arguing and discussing with those he respects.” He lifted the corner of his mouth bitterly. “Of course he listened to me. And, as I predicted, he got better.” He sighed heavily. “I considered myself clever and wise back then. Now I’m the idiot who is afraid that Dax won’t be mad at me forever. I live in constant fear that, at some point, he won’t be. That he will use my advice again and become indifferent to me,” he concluded quietly.

A lump worked its way up her throat and her eyes burned. That sounded like a terrible childhood. And a terrible burden that both brothers had to constantly carry with them.

“So,” Jack said lightly, “that’s why it’s always better to provoke a reaction from Dax. You’ve only lost when there is no longer a reaction. And we definitely have one thing in common: we don’t like losing. I may have lost my family once, but I won’t make that mistake twice.”

Lucy stared at him. Her heart beat loudly and heavily in her chest. A new cold, one other than that of the ice rink, burned her skin. “Why are you telling me this?” she repeated.

“I have a theory,” he explained quietly. “A theory that it can’t hurt if you like me and understand me better.”

“Okay,” she said, perplexed, because he had achieved the opposite with his story. She definitely didn’t understand him. He spoke like he had eaten too many fortune cookies.

“Thanks for listening, Lucy,” he said with a smile, and stood. He was huge on his skates, and yet he curiously seemed to have shrunk in the last few minutes.

“No problem,” she croaked, shifting uneasily in her seat. “Oh, well, since you seem to want to work on your relationship with Dax, I don’t think he would like it at all if he knew what you just told me.”

“No, probably not,” he replied calmly. “But he can’t get any madder at me, so…” He shrugged.

She wanted to ask why that was. What had Jack done? But she didn’t have to open her mouth to know he wouldn’t answer. Instead, another question found its way out of her mouth. “Do you deserve it?”

“Excuse me?” He turned and raised his eyebrows.

“Dax’s anger. Do you deserve it?”

Jack didn’t answer for a few heartbeats. He just stared at her unmoved, his gaze unfathomable. Just when Lucy thought he wasn’t going to answer, he murmured a single word: “Definitely.”

He turned and was halfway back to the ice when she called after him, “Jack, what I wanted to say was that he won’t care that you were pretending to flirt with me.”

The smile that appeared on his face could have outshone a Christmas tree. “What can I say? Apparently, I know Dax better than you.”

She rolled her eyes and sighed heavily. Jack still had a lot to learn about his brother. If she knew anything, it was that Dax couldn’t care less about who she was dating.