Читать книгу Reforming The Playboy - Karin Baine, Karin Baine - Страница 9
ОглавлениеTHE ATMOSPHERE AROUND the arena was electric, everyone buoyed up for the game against the Coleraine Cobras and the chance of getting one step closer to the play-off finals. The Demons were the underdogs at present and to secure their place they needed to come out on top after playing one home and one away match to the Cobras, who were sitting at the top of the league table. It was a tall order but Charlotte kept faith along with all the other fans.
She could hardly believe she was now part of the action instead of a mere spectator sitting in the stands with everyone else. It was a privilege to be on the ground floor of the establishment but she’d also worked damned hard to get here. There was no way she would let everything she’d achieved slip through her fingers for the sake of one man’s ego. Whatever, or whoever, had brought him back to town needed to take a back seat for the team’s sake.
She’d had to swallow her pride and come out to stand alongside Hunter in the tunnel because that’s where she needed to be—on site and focused on the players. It didn’t stop her unobtrusively watching him as the lights dimmed and the crowd was whipped into a frenzy with roving spotlights and blaring sirens hailing the arrival of the home team.
Each time the lights fell on his face for a split second she could see his eyes trained on the ice waiting, watching for that puck to drop. As intense as he’d always been.
A shiver danced its way along her spine as she recalled those past games when she’d found it difficult to watch anything other than him on the ice. It wouldn’t do to regress to that sort of infatuation again and for once she should follow his example and get her head in the game. Although he perhaps wasn’t as single-minded about tonight as he’d led her to believe. She’d caught sight of him waving to someone in the crowd. Someone who’d made him smile. Not that she was jealous. She pitied him really that he couldn’t be alone in his own company for five minutes without the need to hook up with a woman.
The single life suited her and she believed she was stronger without a partner to fret over. Between her and the apparently lovestruck Hunter she knew she’d be the one giving her all to the team without distractions. Not everyone would put the Demons first in their life the way she did, but it was concerning he had other priorities already. They didn’t need any more drama behind the scenes and if he really was serious about being part of the squad he ought to be focusing somewhere other than the contents of his trousers. It gave credence to the notion he was only back here for Hunter Torrance’s benefit, not the Demons’. She doubted he’d be willing to put in the overtime or go the extra mile the way she did if he had other pursuits outside working hours.
The first two periods of play were relatively uneventful, with both sides playing it safe and focusing on defence, so there were high hopes and expectations for the third period. Especially when the Demons had several near misses, with more attempts on goal than their opponents.
‘Come on, guys.’ Hunter’s booming voice and the thump of his hands clapping as he willed the Demons to score didn’t make it easy for Charlotte to concentrate on what was going on inside the rink instead of the decoration around it.
‘You must miss this.’ She hadn’t meant to say it aloud when they’d seen the rest of the game out in virtual silence but he was so involved, animated on behalf of the team, it occurred to her how hard it probably was to no longer be part of the action. He’d skated on this very ice, played for this very team, and seen out the last days of his career here. She’d only been a fan so her position was akin to a lottery win in some aspects while his could be seen as a demotion, standing on the sidelines now.
The roar of outrage from around the arena after a high stick incident against one of their players drowned out her observation.
‘What’s that?’ Hunter didn’t take his eyes off the play but leaned down so he could hear her better.
She swallowed. This wasn’t supposed to be a thing, it was simply her mouth opening before she’d realised. Now he was standing so close to her she could almost feel the rasp of his stubble against her cheek.
‘I...er...was just saying you must miss this.’ It sounded so feeble the second time around it really wasn’t worth repeating.
Of course he missed it. Hockey had been his career, his life at one time. It had been a stupid thing to say, right up there with the people who asked her if she missed her mother. Duh. Generally not unless someone brought her up and made Charlotte realise how incomplete her life was without her in it. Now she’d done the same thing to him.
‘Sorry. I should be following the game too, not chatting.’
For the first time since face-off he focused his full attention on her, his eyes bright and his smile wide. Enough to make her stop breathing.
‘I do miss it. However, as has been pointed out to me, I’m probably more of a hindrance than an asset to the team these days.’ His mischief-making brought the heat to her cheeks, and everywhere else.
To all intents and purposes he was the team’s new signing, doing his best to fit in, and she’d acted the superior know-it-all, making life difficult for him. She didn’t know this man yet she’d made preconceived judgements and behaved accordingly when he’d been nothing but friendly in the face of her childishness. For someone who was all about equal rights in the workplace she knew she wouldn’t have been so forgiving if a colleague had been so awful to her for no apparent reason. A little teasing in return wasn’t something she should complain about.
For a second she thought about apologising. The truth was, he was an asset. He’d treated all those on the injury list the way any experienced physiotherapist would have. She’d checked. It was her, letting her personal embarrassment over an old crush get in the way of a harmonious working relationship.
In the end she kept her mouth shut because she didn’t trust herself not to blab about her past devotion for him when she was looking into those eyes that had once stared at her from her bedroom wall. Worse, she might go the other way and insult him again so he didn’t realise she was having inappropriate thoughts about him.
She had to block him out of her sight and focus back on the game, something she’d never had any trouble doing before. Usually it was more a case of not losing herself in the match and making sure she was watching the players for signs of injury. Sometimes separating Dr Michaels from fan-girl Charlie took a great deal of effort.
The dizzying pace of the players covering the ice was as heart-pumping as it got for her. The hard-hitting alpha males and the danger of the sport had always been like catnip to a girl whose life had become so troubled and lonely. That was probably why she’d been instantly drawn to Hunter the first time she’d attended a game. Everything about him had said danger and excitement.
It still did.
The hairs prickled on the back of her neck and she knew Hunter was close again before he even spoke.
‘Is there something wrong with Anderson I should know about?’
The object of his concern was already on her radar, a bit more sluggish than usual, which was worrying when he was their star player.
‘He has missed a few training sessions lately, which would account for him being more breathless than usual. His fitness needs working on. I’ll put a word in with Gray, if he hasn’t already picked up on it himself.’ She doubted she’d have to point anything out. Anderson was popping up on everyone’s radar lately with his diva attitude. As top goal scorer they’d let his stroppy behaviour slide but now it was affecting his performance someone was going to have to take him to task.
‘Hmm. It looks more serious than that to me.’
Anderson had been making rookie mistakes all night, getting caught offside and hooking the opposition with his stick in full view of the ref.
‘I assure you he’ll get a full physical after the game and if I find any areas for referral I will let you know.’ This was her jurisdiction and it didn’t matter who the new physio was, she was still the medical lead.
They watched Anderson shoulder-charge everyone out of his path. With the giant chip perched there these days it wasn’t difficult to do.
‘And if the problem’s mental, not physical?’ Hunter crossed his arms, his shirt tightening and vacuum-packing his biceps in white cotton.
‘Well, it would also be down to me to make that judgement call.’
Not you. Back off.
He smirked and shook his head. Charlotte tried to ignore it but he was so far under her skin he’d burrowed right into her bones.
‘What?’ she finally snapped, the thought of her past infatuation sneering at her too much to take.
‘I get it. You’re the sheriff in this here town and I’m merely your deputy.’ He tipped his imaginary Stetson and she conceded a small smile. Well, it was better than swooning after that image and a Southern drawl double whammy.
‘And don’t you forget it.’
They locked eyes for a second too long, the laughter giving way to something more...serious. She looked away first and let the background game noise fill in the gaps in conversation. Just when it seemed as if they were starting to bond, stupid chemistry, or stupid rejuvenated teenage hormones, tried to turn it into something she didn’t want, or need, in her life.
Before she was tempted to take another peek at him, a face was mashed into the Perspex in front of her, the violent thud shaking the very ground beneath her feet. The distorted features of a Cobra player slid down the glass, making her wince. She was always conflicted when it came to such territorial displays of male aggression. As a fan, it was a barbaric form of entertainment, watching your team dominate the other. As a medical professional, she understood the physical ramifications of such an impact and as the on-site doctor she’d be called on to treat any injuries caused to the opposition too. That was why she was standing here with her first-aid bag by her feet, for those players who couldn’t shake it off and get back on their feet.
The shrill peep of the ref’s whistle pierced the air.
‘What was that for?’ Charlotte demanded to know, along with most of the crowd rising from their seats as Anderson was reprimanded.
Hunter flinched. ‘He checked him from behind. That’s gonna cost him time in the penalty box.’
‘Oh. I didn’t see that,’ she said, cowed by her own mistake. She knew it was an illegal move because it carried a risk of serious injury but she couldn’t tell him she’d missed it because she’d been busy gawping at him.
‘I’m guessing he hoped everyone else had missed it too. Now what’s he doing? He messed up. He should own it and do the time.’ Hunter threw his hands up in despair as Anderson remonstrated with virtually everyone in authority as he made his way to the penalty box.
His gestures imitated that of a clearly frustrated Gray too as he yelled at his star player from the bench. The coach was a disturbing shade of purple as he fought to control his temper and she made a mental note to check his blood pressure.
Anderson’s penalty left the Demons short-handed for the dying minutes of the game and Charlotte held her breath with every other fan desperate to keep the dream alive. There were so many bodies in the goal crease as they fought for a victory it was difficult to make out who had possession. Until the klaxon sounded and the red light behind the net flashed, signalling a goal.
The Demons had defied the odds and claimed a win, sending the crowd into a furore, but Anderson’s mood didn’t improve when the game was over and he left the ice. He stripped off his kit and threw it piece by piece down the tunnel in temper as he clunked past Hunter and Charlotte, unleashing a string of expletives directed at no one in particular.
Despite his public celebration with the team on the ice after their narrow win, Gray’s demeanour changed too when he approached them. ‘I don’t know what the hell is wrong with Anderson but he needs sorting out before the next game. You two are supposed to be the experts around here. Find out what’s eating him and fix it, or don’t expect to be signing new contracts any time soon.’
‘Gray—’ Hunter tried to put a hand on his shoulder in an apparent attempt to calm him down but he shrugged it off.
‘I pulled a lot of strings to get you here, Hunter, and I expect a lot in return. I don’t care if you talk to him as an ex-pro, sports physician or a fellow maniac, it’s your job to get him match fit and right now he’s following in your footsteps to career suicide.’
She could almost hear Hunter’s heart fall into his shiny shoes with a thud as his so-called ally cut him down with a few cruel words. The hand of friendship fell slowly to his side, the pain of rejection chiselled into his furrowed forehead. Her previous disparaging comments aside, she kind of felt sorry for him. His past misdemeanours were always going to be thrown back in his face regardless of his subsequent achievements and acts of repentance.
‘There’s really no need for that, Gray.’ She put herself in Hunter’s position for the first time and thought how it might feel to have someone cast up the naivety of her youth. Horrendous. Soul-destroying. Unfair.
She’d spent a lifetime distancing herself from that person and if he was to be believed, so had Hunter. Switching careers from hockey pro to qualified sports therapist wasn’t something that would’ve happened on a whim. It would’ve taken years of dedication and determination. All of which was being cast aside as if it was nothing because someone was in a bad mood. Or because someone was deflecting the shame of their own past.
Gray held his hand up to stop her. ‘It goes for you too, Charlie. Fair or not, I need results. I’m sure you can come up with a diagnosis and treatment plan between the two of you. After all, that’s what you’re here for.’ With that, he spun on his heel and powered towards the changing room.
She lifted an abandoned puck from the ground and tossed it in her hand, tempted to lob it in his general direction. Two could let temper get the better of them.
Hunter caught it in mid-air. ‘You don’t want to do anything you might live to regret, Charlotte.’ That serious face said he was speaking from painful experience. One he’d never be allowed to forget.
She let her aggression subside with a sigh, partly due to his voice of reason and perhaps because he’d used her name for the first time. Everyone here called her Charlie, in keeping with her efforts to remain one of the guys. Her full name, in that accent, made her feel positively girly. Even in her game night layers of fleece and comfort.
‘He’d no right to say any of those things. At least, not the personal stuff. I guess he’s kind of right about the reason we’re here. He just didn’t have to be so rude about it,’ she huffed on his behalf, since he seemed determined not to rise to it. Not so long ago she imagined he wouldn’t have thought twice about charging down there after him and duking it out.
Perhaps he had changed. Perhaps he did deserve to have someone give him the benefit of the doubt. Then again, if his one friend here couldn’t let go of the past and fully trust him, why should she?
Hunter shrugged, those broad shoulders refusing to carry any more baggage upon them. ‘He’s right. He did call in a lot of favours for me. I owe him big time.’ Either he had really matured or he was putting on an award-winning performance to dupe her into thinking he had. Especially when she was the one chomping at the bit to retaliate.
She had to remind herself he didn’t owe her anything personally; there was nothing to be gained in convincing her he was anyone but himself, except to prove his commitment to the job.
‘So what do we do?’ Stitches and concussion she could deal with. A burly hockey player with his finger on the self-destruct button was out of her comfort zone.
‘I wouldn’t want to step on your toes...’ He held up his hands in mock surrender to her self-appointed superiority.
‘Okay, okay. If I have to tackle an irate man twice my size, I could use the backup.’
And because Gray had said so.
‘We can’t do anything until we’ve seen to everyone else. We’re going to have our work cut out for us back there, after that last scrum especially.’
‘Then what? The chances Anderson is waiting patiently back there for counselling, treatment or another rollicking are slim to none.’
They had no clue what was ailing him and from her experience thus far, hockey players were stubborn about admitting any weakness. There was definitely more of an ‘I can tough it out’ attitude to injury than she was used to from other athletes. It made her job that much more difficult when those niggling pains turned into something more serious left untreated.
If it was some sort of chronic or traumatic acute injury sometimes it could mean the end of a career. In which case, Anderson would be even less inclined to admit there was a problem. Male pride could be a terrible affliction if left unchecked.
‘You heard Gray. We have to find him.’
She let out her breath in a huff, which may or may not have had to do with his continual glances into the crowd.
‘Unless the Demons have taken to tracking their players, how on earth are we going to do that?’ By the time they finished up here he could be anywhere. It would be dark, and she would be more than a bit cheesed off with the whole drama. Especially when she was expected to do it with Mr Torrance and that brought him much too close for comfort.
‘If I know my hockey players, and the heart of any Northern Irish town, there’s only one place Anderson will be sitting his time out. Let’s hit the pub.’
If she didn’t love her job so much she would’ve left him to it but these were still her players, her patients, her team, and she wasn’t afraid of dropping the gloves herself to fight. It wasn’t only the Demons’ honour at stake here.
* * *
Not only was Gray frothing at the mouth despite the result but Hunter was struggling to find those feel-good endorphins too. It was his son’s first match, the first time he’d seen his father’s team in action, if not playing himself, and he hadn’t been able to share it with him.
‘Sorry I couldn’t sit with you tonight, bud.’ He managed to catch Alfie and his grandparents before they disappeared out of the arena and into the night.
‘That’s okay. Maybe we can come again?’ He glanced up at his guardians with the same hope Hunter was still clinging to.
‘We’re coming to the end of the season now but perhaps I could bring Alfie for a tour behind the scenes some time?’ It was a big ask, he knew, but if he was to win over his son he had to start fighting for time alone with him.
Alfie’s face lit up but his grandmother shut down the notion of any unauthorised trips with a stern ‘We’ll see’.
The light began to dim again before flaring back to life. ‘Maybe Dad could come back with us for supper?’
It was the first time Alfie had called him Dad and it choked Hunter up that he was even starting to think of him in that role. It killed him to have to let him down.
‘It’s getting late and I still have some work to do here. Another night, bud.’ He knelt down and Alfie rushed towards him, hugged him so tightly it brought tears to his eyes. He didn’t care he could barely breathe because he’d never been as happy as he was in this second. This was the beginning of the family he’d never had and the pieces were finally slotting into place.
‘Come on, Alfie. It’s bedtime.’
Although Hunter was thankful for the opportunities afforded him to get to know his son, he was looking forward to the days when there wouldn’t be a time limit set on their relationship.
He slowly and reluctantly peeled Alfie from around his neck. ‘I’ll see you again soon. You be good.’
The kiss he dropped on his son’s head inadequately expressed the love he felt for this child he’d been without for too long but it was all he had to give for now.
Someday they’d be watching the games and eating popcorn together before going home to their own house. Until then they’d have to snatch whatever time was granted by those who thought they knew what was best.
‘’Night, Dad.’
‘’Night, son.’ He waved the trio off, watching them safely across the road until he was too misty-eyed to make them out.
He sucked in a deep breath of the cool night air to fortify his aching heart and blinked away his sentimentality. It was time to focus on the positives. Alfie was happy and safe and he had a job to do. He’d prefer to keep it that way.
* * *
It was close to midnight before they were able to leave the arena. His, or Anderson’s, personal problems had to wait until the players who actually hung around after the game were properly cooled down. Ice baths and stretches were equally as important as the warm-up to keep the muscles in prime condition. He knew Charlotte had a few nicks and grazes to treat on both teams but nothing serious or unusual for men in close contact with sharp blades every day of the week. He came to knock on her door just as she was lecturing her last patient.
‘Remember: RICE. Rest, ice, compression—’
‘And elevation. I got it, Doc,’ a weary Evenshaw replied as she strapped up his ankle.
Hunter gave him a hand down off the bed and watched him limp away. ‘I hope that’s nothing serious.’
‘A slight sprain,’ she said as she packed away the dressings and other bits and bobs she’d used to patch players together again.
Now she’d ditched her zip-up outer layer he could see she was wearing a white round-neck T-shirt. It wasn’t a particularly remarkable piece of clothing, forgettable, if it wasn’t for the fact she’d unwittingly exposed her toned midriff as she’d yawned and stretched.
He coughed away the sudden surge of awareness heading south of the border. It had been a long time since he’d had the pleasure of seeing a female body who wasn’t a patient, otherwise he wouldn’t be responding like a virgin seeing a naked woman for the first time.
‘I hope you’re not too tired to go Anderson-hunting?’ Although it might be better if she was. Regardless of Gray’s insistence and the prospect this could somehow improve working relations between him and Charlotte, he was beginning to have doubts this was a good idea.
He kept losing focus when he was around her, not concentrating on the game or the arrival of his VIPs but watching spots of colour rise in her cheeks as he baited her. There’d also been that moment when she’d stood up for him against Gray. That had been unexpected. From both sides.
Clearly he and his one and only friend still had unresolved issues. Although Hunter knew Gray had said those things in the heat of the moment, there was truth behind them. He’d let him down in the past and though the words had hurt, he’d deserved them and Gray had needed to say them. He just hoped now he’d got it off his chest they could move on again. He wouldn’t dwell on it when he knew how much more pain could be caused by letting a grudge fester out of control. It had already ended one career and he didn’t think he had it in him to start over again if this didn’t work out.
No, it was Charlotte’s attitude that had been most surprising when she’d been the most outspoken about his reputation so far. Perhaps they were starting to make progress after all and she was no longer seeing him as the Ballydolan Demon come to life. Whatever it was, it had felt good to have someone on his side after all this time. Someone whose opinion of him appeared to be turning and she wasn’t afraid of saying it out loud.
‘Of course I’m not too tired,’ she snapped.
‘Of course you’re not,’ he replied. For a woman who appeared so delicate on the outside she wasn’t afraid of much. He got the impression she’d trawl the whole of Ireland even if she was dead on her feet if it meant sticking two fingers up at the doubters.
‘Where do we start?’ Charlotte was back at his side, refusing to let him forget her.
‘Wherever’s within walking distance.’ He set off at a brisk pace, determined to get this over with and get back to his bachelor pad as soon as possible. Minus company.
‘How do you know he hasn’t just gone home or taken a six pack off into the woods?’ Charlotte was almost running to catch up with him as she struggled back into that hideous jacket but he didn’t slow down for her. With any luck she’d get fed up and go home.
That was as likely as Anderson being tucked up in bed.
‘I know we Canadians are a hardy lot but we’re not stupid. That would mean having to go into the bar to buy booze and take it away. Dark woods might appeal to a brooding romantic hero but he’s a hockey player, he needs to blow off steam fast.’
‘He could have gone home like any other disgruntled employee after a hard day at work,’ she grumbled under her breath, but she didn’t know hockey players the way he did.
It was much easier to understand Anderson’s state of mind when you’d been there yourself. If he was anything close to following the same pattern he himself had, not only would he be somewhere, getting drunk quickly, he’d be spoiling for a fight to unleash some more of that aggression they’d witnessed earlier.
‘It’s possible but if we’re thinking logically, there are about six bars on the route back towards his house.’ He’d asked around for details, not that there were many forthcoming. Although he knew where Anderson resided there was little information about his personal life. It wasn’t because the players were reluctant to share with him—in that respect they seemed quite open to him, probably because of his hockey background. No, it seemed no one knew much about Anderson outside the team or alcohol-fuelled nights out. That in itself was dangerous. Hunter understood only too well how isolating it could be out here with no family around to catch you when you fell and pull you up by the scruff of the neck. Perhaps if he’d had someone do that for him he might’ve salvaged something of his sports career.
‘I don’t know why they need so many pubs in such a small space anyway,’ she bristled, every inch the reluctant partygoer, and he was beginning to wonder why she was so against the idea of calling in at the local establishments when it was the obvious place to start their search.
Maybe she was teetotal, although that seemed as far-fetched out here as leprechauns and their crock of gold.
‘So you have somewhere to go when you get kicked out of the last one?’ Well, that’s how he’d treated the place when he’d done his fair share of drinking and brawling here. Strangely, it had only seemed to ingratiate him more with the locals. Until he’d taken it too far, of course, and cost them the championship.
There was a very unladylike grunt behind him but he refrained from continuing the argument. Anderson was close by, he’d put money on it. The sound of the craic coming from behind the doors and the draw of the liquor would be too much to resist.
They started their bar crawl at The Ballydolan Inn, the first dingy building no bigger than one of the nearby cottages at the bottom of the hill. Once they made their way past the smokers outside they were hit with a wall of noise as the doors swung open. The deafening roar soon died down to a curious silence as the locals eyed them suspiciously. If this had been a Western his trigger finger would be itching, waiting for someone to make their move.
Voices rumbled low but Hunter caught the mutterings about ‘that hockey player’.
He scoured the interior, imagining an angry, drunk, Canadian forward would stand out in this crowd of regulars. When he saw nothing but curious Irish eyes staring back, he was ready to leave too. He wasn’t up for another round of twenty questions about his personal life after leaving this place under a dark cloud and turned to chivvy his companion back out onto the street. ‘Let’s try the next one.’
They received much the same welcome there at The Hillside Tavern.
‘Isn’t that the big hockey fella who went nuts a few years back?’
‘Aye.’
‘Thought he’d be dead by now.’
‘Used to play hockey. No longer nuts. Definitely not dead but very much older and wiser.’
Hunter tackled the rumours head on as they flew around him.
There was much more back-slapping after that, propelling them both towards the bar.
‘Glad to hear it.’
‘Sure you’ll have a wee drink for old times’ sake.’
It wasn’t long before a space was cleared at the bar for them.
‘Your local drinking establishment?’ Charlotte mocked with a raised eyebrow, finding difficulty imagining him partying in here during his time with the Demons. In her head he’d been living it up in the clubs in Belfast or exclusive house parties for the rich and famous. If she’d known he was only down the street she might have socialised a bit more herself.
‘Once upon a time. It hasn’t changed much.’
‘I doubt it’s changed at all in the last century.’ It still had the dark wood interior she remembered, permeated with the smell of the peat fire and sweat.
‘I suppose we should really find out if there’s more than one hockey player they’ve been doling out booze to tonight.’ She was beginning to see how easy it would be to fall into the drinking culture here. Honestly, there wasn’t much else to do at night. When the game had first come here over a decade ago it had been a godsend to the young inhabitants like her, giving them somewhere fun and exciting to go without getting into trouble.
He shook hands with the landlord. ‘Sorry, not tonight, Michael, I’m still on the clock. Have you seen one of ours in here? Anderson?’
‘There was a big, blond fella who talks like you in here earlier but he was a bit worse for wear. He made a nuisance of himself, to be honest. Spilt a few drinks, broke a few glasses. I had to chuck him out. Sorry, if I’d known he was with you—’
‘I’m sure he’ll not be too far away. How long ago was this?’
‘A good hour ago, I’d say.’
‘Thanks.’ Hunter grabbed her hand and bolted out the door with a renewed sense of urgency. The electric touch of his strong fingers clasping hers sent her pulse racing as they stole back out into the night.
He let go of her long after they had an excuse to be holding hands.
She absent-mindedly rubbed the palm of her hand where his had crossed it, mourning the loss of his touch already.
‘Do you really think we’re going to catch up with him?’ She was a little on edge, spending so much time with Hunter. Every minute together altered her perception of the man she’d loved and hated in equal measure without ever knowing him beyond his public image. It was unsettling to find out he was as normal as anyone else. She’d moved past her crush a long time ago but she was worried it might take her somewhere more dangerous than a shallow physical attraction if she wasn’t careful.
‘Oh, aye.’ His attempt at the local accent couldn’t fail to make her laugh and she was rewarded with a toothy grin.
She’d always thought him attractive—that was a no-brainer. What teenage girl wouldn’t have had her head turned by a handsome sportsman from a distant land? Finding out Hunter hadn’t the hero she’d imagined him to be had been the biggest betrayal of all. Her mistake had been compounded by watching him fall apart before her eyes in those last matches until he’d convinced her there wasn’t actually anything more than good looks and bad attitude there.
His short time back in the country was already beginning to change that opinion when he was doing whatever was asked for him to aid the team. That eye-opener spurred her on over the crest of the hill towards the old brick building with the faded green ‘Kelly’s’ sign.
She was saved from further personal revelations as a rather large, unkempt figure came barrelling out of the pub door to land at their feet on the pavement. It didn’t take a genius to work out what the cheer from inside and the sight of a burly barman dusting off his hands at the door meant.
‘Anderson?’ Hunter hunched down and brushed the dirty, bloody mop of hair out of the face of the unfortunate who’d been swiftly tossed from the premises.
‘That’s me,’ he said with a slur. ‘Gus Anderson. Man of the match. The crowd go wild.’
He was cheering now, swaying from side to side and pumping his fist in the air.
‘Someone’s got a high opinion of himself.’ Charlotte was having second thoughts about helping if he really was this deluded. He’d almost cost them the match, the play-offs and their very jobs tonight.
‘He’s wasted. He doesn’t know what he’s saying.’ Hunter struggled to get him onto his feet and although he didn’t ask her to, Charlotte felt compelled to help.
She ducked under one arm of their patient, bolstering his left side. He weighed a ton, even though she knew Hunter was probably shouldering most of the weight.
‘Er...now what? How are we supposed to fix this?’
‘We can take him back to my place.’ Hunter was already a bit breathless bench-pressing the man mountain so she hoped he lived somewhere close before all three of them ended up in a ditch by the side of the road.
They half dragged, half carried their wayward charge until they came to a cottage down the lane past Kelly’s.
‘This is your house?’ The pretty chocolate-box cottage and garden didn’t seem very him.
‘Here, hold him until I get the door open.’ He deposited most of Anderson’s bulk around her shoulders and stopped her asking any of the questions flooding her head as she fought to stop her body being concertinaed into the ground.
Are you renting? Did you inherit? Does your girlfriend live here with you?
In hindsight she suspected that was the very reason he’d been so ungentlemanly in the first place. Whatever the secret, he wanted to keep it to himself. Thankfully, once he opened the door and found the light switch, he shared the burden with her until they were able to dump Anderson into a nearby chair.
‘We’ll need to get him cleaned and sobered up.’ Gray would be expecting results and now under the glare of the living-room light she could see Anderson was a bit battered and bruised.
‘Let’s see if we can get him up to the bathroom.’ Hunter steered them towards a narrow staircase and they somehow managed to manoeuvre him into the shower cubicle, still fully clothed.
A grinning Hunter switched on the water and closed the bathroom door on Anderson’s shrieks as he underwent some sobering cold-water therapy. He backed out of the room, bumping into Charlotte in the cramped hallway. She stumbled back, tripping over the upturned edge of the faded hallway carpet. There was that helpless moment when she felt herself overbalance and tip over the edge of the staircase. All she could do was brace herself for the hard, painful landing she knew was coming.
Hunter shot out an arm around her waist, catching her before she fell off that top step and pulling her roughly against his chest, knocking the breath out of her.
‘Sorry. I thought we should get out while he’s cooling off. I didn’t mean to nearly break your neck in the process.’
Her adrenaline was pumping as much from the near miss as being pressed against his hard body.
‘You’re forgiven.’ She aimed for a friendly smile to hide the fact he’d unnerved her by being so close but her heart was pounding so hard she could no longer hear anything but the rush of blood in her ears.
For an instant their eyes locked, this intimate moment between the two of them frozen in time. His eyes darkened as they lit on her smiling lips and the conspiratorial joviality seemed to fade. He was watching her with such hunger, such focus there was no denying what it was he wanted, what he wanted to do to her. Just as before, she felt herself submit helplessly to gravity, only this time it was pulling her ever closer to his lips.
‘Hey, you guys are too cruel. What, are you like SAS trainers or something?’ Anderson yanked the door open and exploded the fantasy.
Hunter wrenched away from her so quickly he’d probably left friction burns in the carpet.
Charlotte was more appalled by her own behaviour. They’d almost kissed. Totally inappropriate with a work colleague, especially when there was every chance he was involved with someone else. So they hadn’t actually made lip contact but she was pretty sure the intention had been there on both sides and that was bad news all around. Clearly she hadn’t yet reached her lifetime’s worth of humiliation where this man was concerned.
‘I’ll get some coffee on the go.’ Hunter took the stairs two at a time in his obvious haste to get away.
She waited until she heard him banging about in the kitchen before she dared follow. At least Anderson, who’d ditched his sodden clothes for a bath towel, made for a distraction from the sudden atmosphere in the house.
She reached for her trusty first-aid bag, which she’d been carrying all night, predicting it would end in some sort of medical emergency, and pulled out an alcohol wipe to cleanse the deepest scratch on his face.
‘Ouch!’ He drew in a quick breath as if she’d poured salt into an open wound.
‘Seriously?’ She’d barely touched him and, with the stench of alcohol emanating through his very pores, she’d imagined he was probably numb from the scalp down.
‘It stings, man.’
‘Sorry. I’ll be as gentle as I can.’ Perhaps she’d been a tad more abrasive than she should have when she was angry at herself for the incident at the top of the stairs. She should know better than to let her personal feelings leak into her professional manner. Although Anderson was the reason she’d been thrown together with Hunter tonight, it wasn’t his fault she’d thrown herself at him.
‘What happened back there anyway?’ She tried to turn her thoughts back to her patient’s current predicament, not her own, but it was easier said than done when she could still imagine Hunter’s arms wrapped around her.
‘At a rough guess I’d say a disagreement with some Cobra fans. Am I right? That’s where the opposition hang out when they’re in town.’ Hunter handed him a mug of black coffee and offered her one without any indication this was in any way awkward for him after what had just occurred.
She declined. A nightcap of any description here wasn’t going to happen. Once she had her big, brave soldier patched up she was packing up and running back to the safety of her own house, where she could analyse the reasons behind that almost-kiss.
Her patient took a sip of the strong-smelling brew and winced. ‘Just some friendly rivalry.’
‘Hmm. Well, it looks like one of your new friends took serious offence to something you either said or did. That cut on your cheek is going to need stitching.’
