Chapter 20

This is a little short but I think the next chapter should make up for it!

“Don’t you think you should tell the poor bastard that he’s gonna have a kid?”
Leave it to her younger brother to put it that way, Tabby thought as she narrowed her eyes and wrinkled her nose up at him across the table. Had they been ten years younger, she would have flipped the spoonful of potatoes she was about to put on her plate directly into his face, but instead she put the spoonful of potatoes down on her plate and gave him the stink eye.

“Why should she?” Trina rose to her defense, like a good friend should and Tabby gave her a grateful smile. “The guy lied like a fucking rug about who he is…was…whatever.”

“Because, if I dropped some illegitimate bastard poop maker, I guess I’d want to know,” Darrel continued and that made everyone around the table laugh.

“No you would not,” Tabby insisted, putting up her hand defensively in front of her mouth in case she spewed corn at him while she laughed. “If some poor girl came to this door right now with a bundle of joy with brown hair and brown eyes that looked just like you you’d tell her to fuck off.” Her brother was proud of his man whoring ways and what Tabby was finding surprising was that his first reaction to her news over Thanksgiving dinner was not to want to track the guy down and put his fist in his mouth.

“Yeah well,” her brother’s face turned pink and he laughed uncomfortably, causing Tabby to stare across the table at her mother with the question clear in her eyes. Had that already happened?

“Darrel’s bark is a lot bigger than his bite,” her father answered, handing the bowl of cranberry sauce towards his errant son with a look of pride on his face. Why was it, Tabby wondered, that men thought it was okay to act like a horny alley cat as long as you had a penis attached to you?

“All I’m sayin’ is the dude has a right to know,” Darrel reiterated, earning him a dirty look from Trina which made him smile his evil little brother smile.

“And if he lied to me about something as simple as who he is, what he does…that’s who you think should be in your nephew’s life? Guiding him? Being his example?” Tabby asked, leveling her gaze at him across the table. The turkey leg he had been lifting to his mouth stayed half way there as he found himself caught in the web that Tabby had woven. It was one thing, all this bro’s before ho’s bullshit, but it was quite another thing to protect your own.

“Nice,” Trina held her hand up for a high five but Tabby didn’t reciprocate. This wasn’t about winning or losing. She’d been staring at his number all day on her new phone, the one she couldn’t really afford, and she couldn’t make a decision. Did he deserve to know, even if he hadn’t bothered to chase after her, if when he’d said he’d loved her, his words had obviously been hollow? She was struggling with the decision and in telling her family, she hoped that they would tell her what the right thing to do was.

“He should at least have to pay something towards the sprog’s care,” her father finally replied, chewing thoughtfully on his brussel-sprouts and giving her that look that said she knew she needed it and this was not the time for pride to override good sense. Of course she knew it and he had seemed to have some money behind him, considering what he was driving and the clothes he wore, and she didn’t really want to be bringing up a child in a damp, drafty, cramped apartment. And yet….

“But then he gets some rights to the kid,” Trina pointed out as she had been doing with Tabby since they had found out about the pregnancy. “Then he can take the kid who knows where and, if he does have money, he could even sue for custody and she’d lose.” Tabby nearly choked on her steamed carrots and Trina reached over to curl her hand around her friend’s. “Sorry babe, but it’s true. The biological mother doesn’t win all the time anymore.”

“If he’s the kind of jerk who lies about his name and shit, he’s not gonna want anything to do with the kid,” Darrel gave his sister one of those ‘all for one and one for all’ looks across the table and Tabby managed a weak smile in return. “Fuck him. You don’t need him. We’ll make sure the kid doesn’t go without,” he added, puffing up his chest, just like he had when he was five years old and some of the bigger kids had been picking on her about her braces. He’d stood his ground in front of her and made it known he’d take on anyone who picked on his big sister. He could be a jerk sometimes but Tabby loved him with all her heart.

“He’s right, for once,” Tabby’s mother leaned over and patted her daughter’s hand. “And I’ll make a call to Uncle Dave, see if we can’t get something done about that house,” she added to which Tabby bristled.

“I was thinking…I mean I know that it would be crazy to be away from all of you, but I own it and…maybe I should move back there.” Every set of eyes stared at her and she shrugged. “It’s just a thought.”

“We’ll get the house sold,” her mother reiterated, “and then you won’t have to worry so much over money.” The pat that she gave Tabby’s hand then made it seem like it was over, there was nothing more to talk about. That was that and suddenly she felt like things were going to be taken out of her hands and the idea of moving back to that rickety old house with its’ creaks and groans and leaking roof didn’t seem like such a bad idea after all.

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“Yes, I had thought of that.” Sidney rubbed at the bridge of his nose, which, along with just about everything else in his head, was beginning to throb. He was beginning to question the references of the private detective that he was sitting across from. He was still having a hard time imagining this guy getting information on hockey players and their agents that Shero could use to entice them to the steel town. “The estate agent referred me to her Uncle, who, I’m pretty sure, was the one who talked her into selling up and leaving in the first place,” he added, grimacing at the short, very impersonal discussion he’d had with dear old Uncle Dave who had been even less helpful than the ladies at Harlequin. “And she doesn’t twitter or facebook or myspace or any of that stuff…at least as far as I can tell,” Sidney added with a sigh.

“And you’ve checked her friend’s networks?” the man asked, noting something in the little black book he carries with him.

“No…I mean…I never got to meet any of her friends and she didn’t really talk enough about them for me to know where to start,” Sidney admits, that heavy feeling in his stomach beginning to make him feel like maybe this was a really bad idea.

“It’s not a lot to go on,” the dick admits, tapping his pen on the paper in front of him before looking across the desk to where Sid feels like squirming. The guy knows who he is and he’s already handed a wad of cash over to him; five hundred a day, plus expenses. It’s kind of like a guy having you by the jockstrap, it’s uncomfortable and embarrassing and there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it without making it worse. “You have thought that maybe she doesn’t want you to find her?” the man asks in that slow, straightforward tone that says a lot about what he thinks of Sid’s lack of game. Sid nods, dropping his gaze because it’s hard to have another grown man looking at you like it’s almost funny for a young guy with all the money in the world not to be able to get the woman he wants, like the guy’s enjoying that idea just a little too much. “There are stalker laws…,” the guy begins and Sidney finds his fingers itching to grab the folded bills back, stuff them in his wallet and leave.

“Look…I…I fucked up with her okay? I just want the chance to…,” to fuck her again, to have her in his bed and make her scream his name, “to apologize, if nothing else.” There, he’s said it and the guy gives a slow, deliberate nod as if to say that he can understand that. It’s the best play that he can make. Everyone thinks of him as that good, polite kid and he knows damn well that everyone will buy a story like that. That he just wants to make amends and sure that’s a part of it, but only a part.

“And you’re sure she’s in Vancouver?” the guy makes another note in his book while Sid nods and then the guy snaps his little book shut. “Okay, well, I’ll make some inquiries but I can’t promise anything. I’ll be in touch with you as soon as I know anything.” The man pushes his chair back with a loud scraping sound and Sid takes that as a signal to do the same. He stretches his hand out and Sid finds himself looking into a pair of grey eyes and he can’t help but notice the lack of sincerity in them.

This was a bad idea, he tells himself again as he shakes the man’s hand. It might be a bad idea, the devil on his other shoulder tells him, but what other plays have you got to make hot shot? The game in Vancouver is in three weeks and he knows that will be his best shot and he’ll only have a few hours to try and convince her that he’s not really the biggest asshole in the world.

“I know finding her isn’t a guarantee she’ll see me,” he says quietly, his hand on the doorknob, “but I have to find her, please.” He looks back at the detective who is already moving to go back to his computer. Somewhere in his mind Sid knows that finding her on the world wide web is probably the fastest, easiest way but he can’t help wishing that the guy would pull out a fedora and go charging out into the street to do it the old fashioned way.

“I’ll do my best,” the man with the cool grey stare nods in a dismissive way and Sid slunk back out the door he’d come in and down the dimly lit hall and he couldn’t help feeling as pathetic as Max had told him it was to do this. But then Max hadn’t held her in his arms, hadn’t heard her call out his name.

Would she be flattered, or horrified that he would go to these kinds of lengths to see her again? Either way it was done now, and couldn’t be undone. It was kind of like shaking your gloves off in front of someone you know can and probably will kick your ass. You know it’s going to hurt but sometimes you just have to do it, he told himself as he made his way back out onto the street where Max and Kris were waiting and he deliberately didn’t meet their curious gazes. They could mock him all they wanted, but when he had her back, he’d be the one laughing.

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“Stop dragging your feet momma,” Trina reached back to grab a hold of Tabby’s wrist as they trudged towards the front doors of the big box electronics store.

“I don’t want you buying things for me,” Tabby moaned, eyeing a sizeable puddle near the door and wondering again what the weather would be like back in Nova Scotia. Much the same, or so her Uncle had told her, when she’d phoned to casually inquire about the house the other night.

“So pay me back when you sell another piece,” her friend insisted, giving her a shove through the doors and past the new dvd releases. Tabby gazed longingly at the stack of movies she couldn’t afford and then obligingly followed her taller, leaner friend down the aisle towards the back of the store where they kept the more expensive, high ticket items.

Like fourty-seven inch high def LCD TV’s. Tabby sighed as Trina paused to get her bearings, and stared at all of the thin flat screens that were so much better than the twenty inch tube set she had at home that now looked positively ancient in comparison. Tabby stood in the middle of the store, surrounded by what seemed like a hundred different sizes of television sets and stared.

“Does anyone have a remote? Can someone turn up the sound?” she asked, turning and looking at one of the bigger screens, her fingers itching to reach out and run her fingers over the planes of his face, to wipe away the droplets of sweat from his upper lip, to trace the line of a new scar that bisected the bridge of his nose.

“Tabs, we’re here to get a microwave so that you can heat up baby bottles, not look at shit you so cannot afford with another mouth to feed on the way,” Trina reminded her, tugging at her arm, trying to lead her away but Tabby felt as if her feet were cemented to the spot. No, worse than that, that she was stuck in quick sand and sinking fast.

“That’s him,” she whispered, her voice almost a sigh as she stared at him in full HD. Spots and all, he was just as beautiful as she remembered.

“That’s who?” Trina asked, having given up on tearing Tabby away from the spot she was obviously unwilling to leave. “That’s Sidney Crosby,” she added, answering her own question. “Yeah, I guess he’s cute. I’m more into the dirty Frenchmen on the team and…,” Trina’s voice dropped off as she turned and stared intently at her friend. “He’s…Tabitha King, are you telling me that that,” she pointed at his likeness on the screen just as he smiled widely, making Tabby’s knees go weak, “that is your baby daddy?” Trina added, pitching her voice even lower than a whisper. Tabby nodded without tearing her gaze away from the screen. “Wait, are you actually trying to tell me that the guy you haven’t been able to stop talking about…the guy that you had sex with all summer…is Sidney fucking Crosby?”

“I guess…no…I mean he said his name was Patrick,” Tabby finally turned to her friend, her face a mask of confusion. “Who is this…who is Sidney Crosby?”

“Oh my god…have you been living in a barn or something?” Trina stared at her, disbelief written clearly all over her face. When Tabby continued to stare blankly back at her Trina finally relented and rolled her eyes. “Oh c’mon, the Olympics were even here for crying out loud. He’s like the golden boy for the entire country! What were you like the only person in the entire city not watching the Gold Medal hockey game?”

“Damon and I went to Cuba during the Olympics…you know I don’t watch sports,” Tabby complained, turning back to watch him run a towel over his dark, curly hair. “So his name is…Sidney?” she tried the name out, letting it roll over her tongue. She’d always like the name Patrick and it certainly sounded stronger, more masculine, than Sidney, and yet, she thought, maybe it suited him. “So he plays hockey…here?” she asked, thinking of the arena down at the end of the Georgia Viaduct and wondering how she could have missed seeing him at the couple of practices she’d been at.

“No…no he plays for Pittsburgh,” Trina shook her head impatiently at her friend and pointed at the logo on the front of his black and gold jersey. Tabby nodded silently, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place.

“I mean…I knew he lied to me…I mean, when I tried to track him down through Gatorade and they were like ‘we don’t have a Patrick that works for us in Halifax but…,” she fell silent as the Trina finally got a hold of the remote and turned up the sound. The small hairs on her arms stood on end as she heard his voice, that almost boyish, half hoarse, half adolescent hormone driven cracking voice of his.

“Well…the stuff he told you was half true,” Trina began her gaze also on the large screen in front of them. Tabby glanced at her, her eyes narrowed and Trina didn’t even have to look over to know that she was waiting for an explanation. “Well, Sidney Patrick Crosby, for one,” Trina began, counting off on her fingers, “and he is a spokesperson for Gatorade and RBK, so that’s two,” she continued, springing another finger from her fist. “And he is from Cole Harbor, born and bred, he just lives in Pittsburgh during the hockey season,” she added, sticking her thumb out to make three. “So…yeah he lied but he wasn’t far off.” Tabby blinked at her friend’s fingers and then turned back to stare at the screen. He was laughing which made that scar on his cheek look almost like a dimple and his caramel coloured eyes to narrow and it made her guts hurt. Her hands automatically spread protectively over her stomach and she suddenly felt very light headed. “They’re playing here in a couple weeks,” Trina added quietly, moving in behind Tabby, ready to catch her if she fainted.

“Here?” Tabby repeated weakly as Trina nodded. “Here,” she repeated to herself, wondering at the way her stomach lurched at the idea. Was that excitement or fear? Did it mean she had to tell him?

The interview was over and, running a towel over his dark, wavy hair, he had turned around and Tabby watched him walk down the corridor in his black and gold uniform, teetering comfortably on his skates. She felt an ache in chest. Her mouth was dry.
She reached for her phone and searched for a number before hitting the start button. She waited, holding her breath until she heard the voice on the other end of the line.

“Katie…, it’s Tabitha. I have a huge favor to ask.”

Chapter 19

She woke up all at once with her heart hammering in her chest and a gasp emitting from her lips. Her back was arched and sweat trickled down her skin between her breasts. Her hands were curled into fists in the sheets and her entire body was trembling. Slowly, she opened her eyes and the true reality of the situation began to sink in. Patrick wasn’t there with her. She was alone, in her bed in her tiny apartment and the orgasm that had awoken her had been produced entirely by her imagination.

“Fuckity fuck shit,” she moaned as her body began to relax into that boneless state that afterglow usually left her in and she closed her eyes and tried to will herself back to that place, to the feel of the tiles in the shower against her back, the water from the shower beginning to cool as his body pressed hers’…no slammed hers’ against the wall of the shower as his long, thick cock filled her completely and utterly and….

And it was gone. She could picture it, picture him, but the feeling, the belief that it had been reality, that she could feel him between her thighs, his hands holding her legs up and apart…it was all gone.

With a groan, Tabby rolled onto her side and brought the blanket with her. Would she, could she ever get over him? Her hand slid down and she placed it over her stomach. She couldn’t feel anything yet, not from the outside, but there was a certain kind of heaviness that she’d been labeling water retention for weeks now. Now that she knew what it really was, she curled herself around and squeezed her eyes shut. She pictured the little tadpole like creature inside of her and felt a smile grow on her lips.

“I’m sorry little guy.” Despite Trina’s protests, she’d felt sure, almost from the moment that the test had confirmed her worst fears, that it was a boy. “I’m sorry you won’t have a father,” she whispered, stroking her stomach with the flat of her hand as she apologized. “And I’m sorry I’m so fucking horny,” she added biting down on her bottom lip as she did. “Oops, gonna have to learn not to swear so fucking much too,” she giggled.

It was a strange feeling, she’d decided as she’d tried to explain it to Mel over lunch that day. She felt like she’d been carbonated, like her stomach was full of tiny bubbles. That was the best she could do, other than to say she felt a bit like she’d swallowed an entire baked potato whole. She had her first scan in the morning and maybe, she hoped, it would all feel a little more real then.

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“Okay that was one tasty little chickita banana,” Jordan stared after the third girl that Sid had turned away, his mouth literally agape as he watched her booty sway in a pair of painted on jeans. “I know you got a little unlucky once Creature, but you can’t let that turn you off all women,” the tall forward continued, his gaze still glued on the formidable junk in the girl’s trunk. For himself, Sid’s gaze was back on the ice in the bottom of his drink.

“Give it up Jordo,” Max sighed, draping his arms around his teammates’ shoulders, or at least over Sidney’s and somewhat near Jordan’s. “He’s still mooning over his summer romance.” Sidney narrowed his eyes at his friend but there was little point in arguing the point. Besides the fact that it was true, arguing with Max rarely had any benefits.

“Really?” Jordan turned and stared at Sid, his sky blue eyes filled with the sort of wonder of a five year old who had just figured out that Santa doesn’t really exist. He looked sort of confused and sad all at the same time. It almost made Sidney smile; almost. “Really?” the big forward repeated again, and this time there was just the hint of a challenge in his voice. Sid could merely shrug. Again, there was little point in arguing. For Jordan it was always a case of out of sight out of mind. That was a way of thinking that Sidney wished that he could cultivate, but in this case, he’d tried and he’d failed, miserably. “What is it about this chick?” Out of the corner of his eye, Sid thought he saw his roommate, Dupes, giving the sign not to go there, but it was too late and having told Duper hadn’t seemed to get it off of his chest.

“She’s like no one I’ve ever been with,” he began to which Max muttered something about her ‘not only seeing him as a walking wallet stuffed with hundreds’. He glared at his fuzzy faced friend and then continued. “I felt…simple, free with her. I felt more like myself, not ‘Sid the Kid’,” he made bunny ears around the nickname he most hated in the entire world and then shrugged. “When I was with her I felt the most real I’ve felt in…well, let’s just say I haven’t felt like that in a long time.”

“The thing I’ve been trying to explain to nos ami,” Pascal interjected, “is that it was pretty easy to feel like someone else when he was being someone else and he was pretty fortunate to be in his own community where people know him well enough to give him some space and let him play make believe.” Sidney had heard the argument and he understood its merits but on the other hand….

“When have I ever had the opportunity for a girl to just get to know me? Not,” he raised his hands to make the bunny ears again when Max snorted and shook his head.

“But she didn’t, did she mon ami? She knows Patrick, not Sidney. She doesn’t know about you and hockey et sans savoir de tu et d’hockey, elle ne tu connaît pas du tout, d’accord?” Max tilted his head and gave him one of those looks that said he knew so much more about the world of women than Sid was ever likely to and it made him squirm. “Even if you found her, and I am assuming from your mood that she has still not called, oui?” Sid sighed but nodded. There was little point in lying about it if it was that obvious. “Well, even if you do, and then, say you bring her to the ‘Burgh…then what? As tu pensé à ce sujet?”

The fact was that he had, over and over again. He’d gone over the idea in his head so many times that it nearly felt real to him. As soon as he explained who he was, she would understand the rest and she’d forgive him. Or at least that’s the way it went in his imagination.

“It doesn’t matter. She’s not going to call,” he said aloud, though in his heart he refused to believe it. They’d had something. They’d shared something real. He had to find her.

“Then why give up on that grade A piece of ass?” Jordan asked, his face contorted in a way that said it hurt him to watch the girl disappear into the crowd. Sidney could merely shrug in response. They didn’t understand. None of them did and he didn’t know how else to explain it. He was going to find her and it was going to be fine. Happily ever after in fact, but if someone asked him to tell them how he knew all he’d be able to say is that he did and for these guys…that would never be enough.
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“If you’d just like to jump up on the table and scoot down to the end,” the technician smiled and turned on the machine next to the examination table. Tabby eyed it suspiciously as she lay down and opened her jeans, pushing them down over her hips. “This might be a bit cold,” the young woman added as she squeezed some kind of cold gel over her abdomen and Tabby winced. “I did warn you,” she added with another warm smile. Did this kind of woman go into Obstetrics because they were nice or did nice girls just end up here, Tabby wondered as she tried her best to relax, even though every muscle, every fiber in her body seemed to be strained to the breaking point and when her phone began to vibrate in her pocket, she almost fell off of the table.

“Sorry,” she apologized, digging her phone out of her pants pocket and staring down at the display. “Damn,” she hissed.

“If it’s important,” the technician eyed her with that jaded look as if to say ‘damn girls and their phones’.

“No, it’s just my agent,” Tabby explained, shutting her phone off. Between her art editor and the useless real estate agent who still hadn’t been able to sell the house, she was beginning to wonder why she’d let Mel talk her into buying another phone. “So, you’ll be able to tell how far gone I am?” Tabby asked, her gaze already glued to the static laced screen.

“Mmmhm,” the technician replied noncommittally as she placed the magic wand in the cold gel and began to move it in small, slow circles. Tabby wanted to ask ‘is that it? Is that it?’ every time she thought she could see something solid on the screen. She was now wishing very much that she had taken up Mel on her offer to accompany her but instead she took a deep breath and tried, again, to relax. She watched the tech readjust the knobs and dials and did her best to stay calm and not interrupt or act like one of those super excited moms to be. “See this,” the technician said at long last, hitting some button that made the image on the screen freeze before she pointed to what, at first, looked a hell of a lot like a peanut. Tabby peered at the black and white image and then at the technician helplessly. “Wait,” the tech made the image bigger, or clearer, but suddenly there it was, a perfectly formed little alien with tiny feet and hands and a giant head.

“Oh my god,” Tabby breathed, seeing the little being staring back at her. It took her a moment to realize that there was not only an image but a sound as well. “Is that…is that my heartbeat?” she asked.

“No, that’s the fetus,” the woman replied without looking away from what she was doing. Tabby continued to stare at the image on the screen, her mouth agape. She wanted to fold her hands over her stomach. She wanted to cry.

“I didn’t expect it to be…anything…I mean not yet.”

“Looks about ten to eleven weeks,” the woman replied, moving the little wand once again to change the picture. Tabby stared at the image, watched him tumble and stretch and felt her breath catch in her throat. “The magic number,” the technician added, tilting her head to one side and regarding Tabby with a raised eyebrow.

“What’s that?” Tabby asked, her gaze still riveted to the image on the screen.

“Well,” the woman stopped moving the wand and reached for a cloth to clean the gel from Tabby’s stomach. “It’s the point that most surgeons will put on the decision timetable for termination.” Tabby blinked and then turned to stare at the woman in her clinically white lab coat.

“Because I’m here alone?” Tabby asked quietly, reaching down to do up her jeans.
“That’s why you’re saying that, right?” The woman continued to clean her instruments and put them away but she shrugged and nodded.

“I’m not suggesting anything,” the woman replied, setting the printer humming and, after a moment, she turned to hand a small black and white print out to Tabby, who held it in both of her hands and stared down at it. “You’re young. It’s not as easy and fun as you might think,” she added. Tabby slid off of the examination table and headed for the door.

“I’m under no illusions,” Tabby replied quietly as she pushed the door open, “at least I don’t think I am.” Her hands shook as she said it and she wasn’t sure she believed it, but what she did know beyond anything else was that she was madly, deeply and irrevocably in love with the little being in the grainy photo in her hands.

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Sid sat alone in the dark of his room, staring out at the leaves on the ground and wondered where in the world Tabby was right now and what she was doing. It was hard for him to believe that months had passed since they’d fought and parted because the pain of that separation still felt raw to him. His heart felt bruised and he still felt confused and lost when he thought of her and yet he couldn’t stop doing it.

Right now he was supposed to be napping. He had a game in a few hours and this was the time he should be conserving energy, emptying his mind, not punishing himself and filling his head with thoughts over which he had no control. His hand balled into a fist and he slammed it against the wall, wincing as the meat of his hand split against the solid wood wall. He shook his hand and grimaced as he turned to lie on his back, to stare up at the blank ceiling.

She hadn’t called. She probably wasn’t going to call and he probably wasn’t ever going to see her again, which meant he really should do what it seemed like all of his teammates were suggesting…forget her and move on with his life. With his hands behind his head, Sid let his gaze go unfocussed and tried to will her out of his mind except as soon as he did that, she was there, with that long mane of ebony hair, the colour of a raven’s wing, fanning across his pillow, with her cute little nose all wrinkled up as she giggled.

He closed his eyes and the specter of her took on a more solid form. He could smell paint thinner and lavender soap. He could feel her hair shrouding him like a waterfall. He could feel her ivory skin under his fingertips as she straddled him, her strong thighs alongside his, her full breasts teasingly close to his mouth.

Sidney moaned as he felt her body press down over his. She liked to tease him, stroking her warm, wet pussy over his aching cock until he couldn’t stand it anymore. She would giggle as her lithe fingertips traced the lines of his chest, making patterns that only her vivid imagination could see. He would reach for her, wanting to tease her back, but she would shake her head and sit up, holding her breasts just out of his reach and then….

Sidney wriggled out of his shorts and took his now throbbing cock in his hand as he watched her bite down and drag her bottom lip into her mouth as she teased her own nipples, rolling the hard, pink buds between her fingers as she looked down at him, knowing the sweet torture it was only to be able to watch. But there was one thing he could do and her head tilted back until all that black hair fell down her back and tickled his thighs. He stroked her clit, his hand between his pelvis and hers’ as she pushed down and rocked against him. With a little ‘come hither’ motion of his fingers he could make her cry out, her eyes squeezing shut, her body giving into a shudder that would end the teasing.

She would look down at him then, her dark eyes alight with a fire, her full lips parted in a smile and they would come together, her body raising just enough to slide down over him, and she was so hot and wet and tight….

Sidney’s cock jerked in his hand as his balls pulled in tight to his body and a stream of jism arced into the air and up his stomach. He heard himself call out her name as his entire body went taught and bowed as the orgasm held him in its grip.

How could he forget her? He asked himself as he reached for a tissue beside his bed and did his best to clean up the mess her memory left him with. He’d just have to find some other way of finding her, even if it took hiring a private detective he’d do it, he vowed silently as he wiped the last of the sticky white substance from his stomach, because there was no forgetting her.

Chapter 17

“The Bieksa’s are back,” Mel announced as she rounded the corner to the back of the gallery where Tabby was currently emailing another order to Harlequin for more prints. She got a piece of each, more a taste really, but Harlequin was happily getting the larger chunk of change for each sale.

“The who?” Tabby didn’t even look up from her task. It didn’t matter if she was only getting five dollars from the sale of every print. Every five dollars kept her from having to move in with her mother and the way her mother had been since she’d gotten back from the Island…

“You know, that über cute couple who bought the Bambi painting,” Mel began and that did make Tabby look up and shoot her a dark look.

“It’s not the Bambi painting. It’s called Mother and Child,” Tabby corrected her before shaking her head and going back to her task.

“Yeah, whatever. Did you know he’s a hockey player?” Tabby’s nose wrinkled as she hit send on the email and then turned back to her friend.

“Was I supposed to?” she asked, tilting her head to one side. She hadn’t considered her friend to be any more knowledgeable in the area of sports than she herself was.

“So I was thinking about that commission you’ve been struggling with,” Mel continued, stretching her words out as if she was talking to someone with diminished mental capacity while raising her eyebrows and staring at Tabby, waiting for her to catch on.

“Oh…oh!”Tabby practically jumped out of her chair. “Do you think he would? I mean…do you think he wouldn’t mind?” she asked, practically shoving her friend out of her way in her eagerness to get out to the front of the gallery where the cute young couple was waiting.

“And here she is,” Kevin smiled warmly and Tabby could hear Mel growling behind her. That girl definitely had a thing for married men.

“I just wanted to thank you again,” Tabby began, holding her hand out to Katie first and then to Kevin who held it maybe a count too long, his sea blue gaze capturing hers’. “Mel found some great reclaimed wood from a house being taken down. It’s a real natural dark wood,” she added as Mel pulled the large canvas out from behind another set of cheaply framed prints. “I hope you like it,” she added standing back while the young couple ooh’d and aah’d over the frame and Mel stood by beaming over her handiwork. Not that she could blame her, Tabby thought, as she too looked over the whole picture. The painting looked even more complete now. It almost made her feel badly for leaving the unframed print for Patrick’s mother…almost.

She waited until Kevin was signing the credit card slip for the framing to ask.

“Mel was telling me that your husband plays hockey?” She directed the question to the wife to avoid any unseemly connotations to the request. Katie grinned and almost laughed.

“You could say that,” she covered her mouth for a moment and then just let go in a fit of giggles that left Tabby standing there looking back and forth between Mel, who was shaking her head at her, and Kevin who was smiling in that way that said he knew something but wasn’t about to share it. “I’m sorry,” Katie hiccupped at last, reaching out to put her hands on Tabby’s forearms. “I don’t mean to be rude but…it’s actually kind of nice not to have him recognized, but it is a bit unusual.”

“Oh,” Tabby stared back at the couple awkwardly as Kevin put his arm around his wife’s shoulders and planted an affectionate kiss on the top of her head. “I’m sorry, I just don’t watch sports,” she tried to explain.

“Clearly,” Kevin grinned with a not very veiled glance towards the prints. Tabby followed his eyes, waiting for him to say more, but when he didn’t she looked back at him and continued her question.

“I just wondered…I mean, I hoped…I have this commission to do a cover of a novel with a hockey player and like I said, I really wouldn’t know one end of a hockey stick from another and I would just appreciate if I could just do some sketches to work from…and I mean if you’re busy I’d understand but….”

“He’d be happy to, wouldn’t you babe?” Katie volunteered her husband before he had a chance to answer for himself. “In fact he has a practice tomorrow morning. Why don’t I meet you down at the rink tomorrow, we’ll get you inside and you can’t sketch hot sweaty men to your heart’s content.”

_________________________________________________________

“You’re lucky it’s just a case of pubic lice, crabs I think you boys call them.” Dr. Burke looked over his glasses at Sidney who was doing his best not to scratch while the doctor poked around in his family jewels. “From what you’ve been telling me, you’re lucky you haven’t caught something far worse,” he added in that disappointed paternal tone, which, if he hadn’t already felt like squirming, would have had that effect on him. “I know you boys get plenty of opportunities to sew your wild oats,” the doctor continued as he fished around with a pair of long, sharp looking tweezers that made Sid wince just to look at them, “but I wish you would be a little more careful.”

“I’ve been using protection,” Sidney grumbled as the doctor peered at something between the tips of the tweezers before dunking it into a test tube filled with alcohol.

“Well, as you can see,” Dr. Burke held up another one of those nasty little bugs that had had Sidney scratching himself in public, “that clearly isn’t a hundred per cent effective in keeping all forms of sexually transmitted infections at bay. And, in case you didn’t know, condoms are also not entirely effective in stopping pregnancies either,” he added, freezing Sidney with another one of those patented looks over his glasses. “And I know that it wouldn’t just be your father who would be very unhappy with you if you were leaving little Sidney Crosby’s everywhere.” Sidney shut his eyes and gripped the edge of the examination table to stop from scratching.

“Other guys…guys on the team have had this right?” he asked through his teeth.

“Mmmhmmm,” the doctor replied noncommittally, and as Sidney looked down the length of his body he felt his stomach roll at the sight of the doctor staring intently at his junk. “I think we’ve got all the eggs and the cream should take care of the lice,” he sighed, snapping his rubber gloves off and reaching for the cream, handing it to Sidney who immediately opened it and began to squeeze it all over his nether regions until the soothing cream made him let out a little sigh of relief. “I hope I don’t have to tell you that you can’t have any sexual relations, of any kind, with anyone, for at least two weeks,” Dr. Burke added, leaning back against the sink wearing that disappointed look on his face again. “And I’d throw out anything you’ve worn in the last two weeks as well, and don’t make me tell the equipment manager,” he added which made Sidney shudder. He hated throwing out anything from his equipment. He’d had the same jock strap since he was twelve and the equipment manager had been begging to replace it for years. He’d definitely have his wish come true now. “And who is your roommate on the road?” the doctor asked, as Sidney reached for his boxer briefs, only to have the doctor pick them up with same tweezers he’d just been using on him and, as Sidney watched, the doctor carefully deposited them in the medical waste box.

“Dupers, Pascal Dupuis,” he added as the doctor’s brow wrinkled.

“Yes, well, you should let Mr. Dupuis know as I’m sure your towel has touched his and so on,” Dr. Burke sighed, before turning to open the door to yell down the hall for someone to retrieve ‘Mr. Crosby’s shorts from the equipment room’ before holding his hands out for his jeans.

“Really?” Sidney sighed, but handed them over and watched as the doctor got out a yellow medical waste disposal bag and tossed them inside, closing the bag tight and knotting the ties.

“All this…bed jumping…while understandable at your age, can lead to more serious consequences than this Mr. Crosby,” Dr. Burke admonished him and Sid sat there feeling about a foot high and properly embarrassed. “I would suggest being a little more…prudent, with your choice of bed partners from now on.” The shorts were passed through the door and Sidney slid into them and, with his head hung low, headed out into the hallway.
___________________________________________________________

Tabby’s stomach lurched towards her throat as Katie lead her through the equipment room where a pile of sweat soaked jerseys were being sorted through and then she covered her mouth and nose with her free hand as they went through the dressing room. The mixed aromas of body odor, sweat, mildew and the rankest of them all, foot fungus, filled her head and made her eyes well up as her body tried to defend itself from the general funk of hockey players. Katie didn't even seem to notice. Must be an acquired taste Tabby told herself as she followed behind.

Some of the guys were already in the room, in various states of undress and the flexing biceps and rippling six packs reminded her of the last text message she’d received from Mel; ‘I hate you’. It was simple and to the point and now that she was getting an eyeful of the prime man meat in the room, she had the urge to pull out her phone and take a photo to send back to Mel.

Or maybe even Patrick, she thought. Look at what I’m looking at or maybe his ass is nicer than yours, although, if she was honest with herself, though there were certainly some nice ones on display, none of them had that solid, meaty weight to them that his had had.

I wonder what he does do to look as good as he does? Tabby thought to herself as she followed Katie down a corridor that lead out to the ice where there was still a number of players passing a puck around. See, she said to herself, you remembered some of what you read. She’d been online the night before, or at least on the Canucks website, and now she was fairly sure she could tell one end of a hockey stick from another.

“Hey, you’re here,” Kevin called out, sending a spray of ice towards them as he came to a stop in front of the bench. Katie leaned out for a kiss while Tabby got her sketch book and pencils out of her purse. “So, how do you need me?” he asked, striking a strong man pose with his arms bent in, which, Tabby could imagine, having seen him in street clothes, would have been fairly impressive if it hadn’t been for the pads and the oversize jersey.

“I was thinking of something more relaxed?” she offered, tipping her head to one side and trying to decide what would look both cocky and sexy at the same time. “How about with the stick across your shoulders and your hands kind of dangling…that’s it!” she grinned as he assumed the position she had just described, his head tilted a bit to one side with that smoldering ‘I’m going to fuck you up’ grin that she thought was probably his go to face against an opponent.

“Will I get a copy of this?” Katie asked, leaning on the boards and admiring her husband openly.

“You have it to look at all the time babes,” Kevin grinned back at her and Tabby cemented her gaze to the white sheet now balanced on her knee. The two of them were so obviously in love it felt a little too private, a little too intimate to be around them.

“Yeah what about some real beefcake?” One of Kevin’s teammates sent a shower of ice over the boards, which melted immediately onto the paper and erased the few lines that Tabby had put down. She growled and looked up, intending to let the guy have it, but found herself looking up into another pair of sky blue eyes and a freckled face with a big, goofy grin attached.

“You? Beefcake? Don’t take your shirt of OB,” Kevin laughed without losing his pose, “or she might see where you keep all those beers around your middle.”

“Hey girls like a little something to hold on to, am I right?” the tall, young looking player looked to Tabby for affirmation but she just shook her head.

“I guess that sort of depends on the girl,” she mused, turning the page over to start again.

“Yeah, you don’t stand a chance with this one,” Kevin snorted, “she’s had a taste of filet mignon, she’s no going back to flank steak Shane.” Tabby opened her mouth to ask what he meant by that but by the time she opened her mouth, Kevin had dropped his gloves and the two men were play fighting and other players were skating over to jump in.

“They’re just boys,” Katie explained, grinning and laughing as she watched her man giving as good as he got and laughing all the while. “You gotta love them though, right?” Tabby nodded and thought about Patrick’s friends Jordy and Max and Kris and couldn’t help but smile and agree.
____________________________________________________________


A few weeks later….


“You know there’s been snow since the beginning of time. You’d think they would have figured out a faster way to de-ice a plane in the last fifty,” Sidney grumbled as he and a group of his teammates stared out the window at the crew working under and on top of the plane, heating ice from the wings. Until they were done, they were stuck in the airport in Toronto with nothing to do.

“Somebody needs to get laid,” Jordy noted aloud, making the rest of the team snort, or at least those who didn’t try and hide their amusement behind their hands, knowing full well the sort of mood their captain had been in of late. The nasty infection he’d got from that woman in Philly had put enough of a scare into him that he hadn’t been near a woman since, and they all knew it. Sidney didn’t give in to the urge to turn around and stick his fist into the fall forward’s face. There was no point.

He did need to get laid but bedding just any woman hadn’t healed the wound inside of him, hadn’t made him forget her. He still dreamed of her when he shut his eyes and when he took his own need in hand, it was still her name he called out.

“Let’s go get a Playboy or something,” TK muttered, pushing off from the glass and turning to head into the strip of shops nearby.

“You could have at least said Sport Illustrated or the Hockey News,” Max muttered as he too turned to follow the speedy young winger.

“Why? Do you think I’m gonna wack off in the bathroom to a picture of him?” TK pointed at Sid who scowled back at him. The entire group broke up laughing but nearly everyone got to their feet and followed him across the waiting area.

Sid headed for the magazine rack. He did intend to buy a copy of SI, or something similar to read. Not that he was much for reading but it would help to pass the time; especially if they were going to be stuck in the airport much longer. He knew his temper had grown short and that he needed a distraction from the thoughts that kept playing through his head. Even now, as he stood in front of the magazine rack beside Dupes and Flower, perusing the sport section, his hand kept going to his phone. He’d palm it, think about calling her and then chicken out and take his hand out of his pocket.

At first, it had only been pride holding him back from calling her. Now it sheer cowardice. After all this time, she probably had some other lover, some man taking her out for candlelit dinners, making her laugh, kissing her ripe lips….

“Holy shit!” Everyone’s head swiveled to where TK and Jordy were standing further down the aisle, holding up a paperback in each hand and laughing. Sidney shook his head, deciding that whatever it was considering the culprits, whatever they were up to, was bound to be juvenile and would do nothing to cure his irritated state. “Seriously Cap, I had no idea you were moonlighting as a male model,” TK shouted down the aisle. With a sigh, Sidney replaced the copy of ESPN magazine to its place amongst the others on the rack and turned to join his teammates who were hooting and hollering like they were at the rippers, not in a small bookstore.

“Jesus Christ will you look at this?” Jordy was holding up a small paperback and laughing. Sidney eyed the cover and felt the tips of his ears eat up. He knew that picture. He hadn’t seen it completed but he remembered posing for it, standing on the stairs in a hard hat, tool belt and jeans. That’s when things had gone to shit. “Stephanie has a boring nine to five job. The only time she gets to stretch her imagination is when she dreams about what the old house she’s just bought is going t look like if she ever gets it finished and then Robert James comes into her life when she hires a handy-man and suddenly her imagination is out of control and so is her libido,” Jordan reads aloud to a chorus of wolf whistles and cat calls. Sidney reaches to snatch the paperback out of his friend’s hand but Jordan dances out of range and shakes his head. “No way, I’m taking this on the plane,” he laughs.

“What about this one?” Sidney turns to find Max holding up another paperback, this one with the first cover, him in the full knight in shining armor get up with the fainting girl in his arms, her black hair pooling on the ground, her breasts heaving free of her dress. Bodice rippers she’d called these books and it certainly looked like he’d been working on her dress…. “Rougishly handsome Duke Olivier de Lacey has always lived life lustily, women, wine and song. Lady DeCouverley, stuck in a loveless, arranged marriage to an elderly, mostly bed ridden Lord finds excitement when she joins a dissident group of Protestants who work against the Queen and thwart her order of executions at every turn. When the debauched Duke is due to hang, only the lovely Lady DeCouverley can save him but can she save herself from his brooding charm? Oooh brooding charm,” Max laughed and began to open the book to read aloud Sid thought as he grabbed for the book only to have it passed over his head to Flower who then tossed it to Tanger.

Sid shook his head and turned to head back to the magazines. He’d known how she made a living and by saying nothing and certainly by posing for her, he’d given his tacit agreement to her using his likeness. He knew Pat, his agent, would be furious if he found out…hell, Bettman would stroke out, but he wasn’t about to make a deal about it now and she hadn’t chosen the stories her…what did she call them? Illustrations went on.

Still…Sidney turned and went to the shelf to look for one of the books. Maybe Harlequin would be able to provide her address. They had a game in Vancouver at the end of next month and maybe, just maybe, he could get a hold of her, take her to dinner, if she would just let him explain things….

“Bien, je suppose que nous n’avons pas d’imaginer qui elle est maintenant à coucher….” Sid didn’t even let Kris finish before he had ripped the slim volume from his teammates grasp. He stared at the cover and there was no doubt whatsoever in his mind that it was her work. The style, the colours, it was all the same. So was the girl with the pencil skirt, glasses and clipboard who was staring, cow eyed at the casual looking, roguishly handsome defenseman for the Vancouver Canucks. She’d hardly even made any attempt at changing the jersey or logo. That was definitely Tabby and there was no mistaking the cocky sneer on Kevin Bieksa’s face.

A red haze fell over Sidney’s gaze and his hands clenched around the paperback and before he knew what he’d done, he’d ripped the book in two and only the cover and a couple of pages remained in his hand, the rest was on the floor and the entire store was silent. Sid looked around and saw every pair of eyes on him.

“Pay for this will you?” he growled at Max, pulling his credit card from his wallet and pressing it into his friend’s hand, and then, with the cover still in his hand, he stormed out of the store.

Chapter 5

“Soooo Patrick,” Max began finally breaking the silence that had lasted long enough for the three men to get back to Sidney’s home, put away what was left of the food, grab a six pack and head out onto his deck. Max had his feet up on one of the other deck chairs while Kris seemed to be content to stare out over the dark lake. Sidney was picking at the label on his Moosehead and sulking.

“You know how hard it is for me to find someone normal, a girl that isn’t into the whole fame game,” Sidney explained quietly. Not that he thought he had to explain that to either of his friends. They had both fallen victim to gold diggers of their own and learned the lesson the hard way. For his part, Sidney had avoided relationships altogether, for years, refusing to get more serious than a few dates. The one or two times he had begun to trust someone, his life ended up on Photobucket or Tumblr for the entire world to see.

“D’accord, mon ami, nous le comprends, mais…if she doesn’t know who you are, why lie?” Sidney glanced over at Kris who he hadn’t thought was listening to the conversation and watched while his dark haired friend grabbed a chair, turned it backwards and straddled it, leaning on the back of it, his chin resting on the back of his arms while he waited for a reply.

“But I don’t know, not for sure,” Sidney pointed out, peeling away part of the label and reaching out to drop it into the citronella candle, watching as it sizzled and disappeared in a plume of multi-coloured smoke. “Sometimes, the good ones, they let you believe they don’t know,” he added thoughtfully, thinking of a certain blonde haired gymnast who hadn’t seemed to care about who he was until she’d bedded him and then she’d splashed it across facebook as if it were the news of the world.

“So when do you plan on telling her the truth?” Max asked, taking a long gulp of the amber liquid, tipping it so that even the very last drop in the bottle wouldn’t be wasted before holding it up to the light, just to be sure and then he reached for another from the cooler. “After you’ve slept with her? Before you ask her to marry you?” he added, finally turning his attention to Sid who stared back at him as if he’d just spoken in Swahili.

“I…I’m not saying I even want…well, yeah I want to sleep with her…yeah of course. I mean you saw her, right?” he looked at both of his friends in turn and they both nodded their agreement. She was definitely bangable. “But I don’t want to have a relationship,” he added, shuddering as if the entire idea of tying oneself down to another human being was repulsive in the extreme.

“Oui, because you are the king of the one night stands mon ami,” Tanger snorted, and he and Max clinked bottles and laughed at his expense while Sidney sat and simmered in silence because it wasn’t something he could argue over. He wasn’t that guy. He wasn’t like Max or Chris or Jordy, he couldn’t just do the whole wham bam skip out in the middle of the night thing. He had too much respect for women to be the guy that snuck out in the early hours of the morning leaving behind a bogus phone number. Maybe it had had something to do with growing up in a small town like this, knowing that every move you made was going to be seen and talked about. Or maybe it was just that everything he’d done since he was about ten had been talked about, discussed, analyzed to death and it had just been too much of a risk to include women in that mix. Either way, meaningless sex wasn’t in his repertoire.

“I didn’t say one night. I said I wanted to sleep with her…have fun, over the summer and then I’ll go my way and she’ll go hers’. No harm no foul.” It sounded like a solid plan when he said it to himself but the way both Kris and Max looked at each other and immediately began to snort derisively, he was willing to guess they didn’t think that possible either.

“You don’t do casual mon capitaine,” Tanger chuckled, grabbing each bottle off of the table and staring into them as if there was some chance they would have miraculously began to refill themselves.

“And that picnic didn’t look casual either,” Max pointed out, his eyebrow raised as if he was daring Sid to argue the point.

“Is there some rule that says you can’t enjoy the company of a woman, wine her and dine her before you have sex?” he asked and watched as Kris and Max turned to one another with amused looks on their faces. “What? What have I done wrong now?”

“Is the rule written down? Je ne sais pas, but I know if all I plan to do is take a girl to bed, I’m not spending more than a few drinks worth of money sur la fille, comprends?” Tanger gave Sid that look from beneath the brim of his hat that said he was right and Sid was wrong but life didn’t work that way.

“If it was only a one night stand, oui, c’est vrai, but that’s not what Sid’s after, is it, mon ami?” Max interjected, which wasn’t exactly coming to his defense. In fact, it made Sid squirm on his chair.

“It’s casual, whatever,” he mumbled, getting up from his chair, sending it tumbling behind him as he reached for the bottles on the table, grabbing them up in his hands. “I’m going to bed. Try not to piss off my neighbors.” With that he turned and went into the house, knowing full well that he was leaving them to talk about him behind his back. ‘Let them’ he thought to himself as he slammed the door shut behind him and stomped into the kitchen, dropping the beer bottles into the recycling bin before dragging off his sweater and balling it angrily in his hands. Their advice had never amounted to much anyway.

Reaching into the tub, Sid turned the water on full and let it run over the back of his hand. What he probably needed was a cold shower but that would keep him up and he already had a bad feeling that the events of this evening were going to haunt him. So instead, he made sure the water was scalding hot before he unbuckled his belt and dropped his jeans to the floor.

He wanted to wash off her touch. He wanted his skin to stop tingling where hers’ had brushed his, where she’d touched him either deliberately or inadvertently. He turned his face up into the hot spray and closed his eyes.

Was he being too eager? Doing too much? It seemed like she wanted him as much as he did, or had all the food sharing and all of the talk about skinny dipping been nothing more than an instrument meant to drive him crazy?

Sid’s fists hit the cold tile with enough force to break open the skin on his knuckles.

Maybe the boys were right. Maybe he was taking this too seriously. He would stay away from her for a few days and then he wouldn’t look so pathetic and needy. After all, he didn’t need her. If he wanted to get laid all he’d have to do is drive down to Halifax with the boys and go to a bar, any bar, and he could have his pick of girls. They’d know who he was of course but if all he wanted was sex, did that matter?

Sid turned off the water and reached blindly for a towel. As he dragged it over his head, rubbing his still short, dark hair dry, he told himself firmly that he didn’t need her or anyone else and that it wasn’t just about the boys teasing him. He had more control than that. He had come home to fish and relax so that was what he was going to do. Fish, relax and not think about the dark haired beauty at the other end of the lake.

Failing that, he knew it wouldn’t take much arm twisting to get Tanger and Max to join him on a flight to Atlantic City, or even all the way down to Barbados, if it came to that, which it wouldn’t, he promised himself as he ran the towel roughly over his now cooked and somewhat tender skin.

“Ahhh fuck,” he hissed as he imagined her hands running up his legs, softer, gentler than the towel and his body reacted accordingly. “Maybe a trip to Atlantic City isn’t such a bad fucking idea,” he growled, folding the towel and shoving it back onto the towel rack before scooping his clothes off of the floor and padding silently to his room where he knew he was going to spend the night tossing and turning.

___________________________________________________________


Tabby sat on the bench by the bay window and stared across the dark lake, her knees pulled up to her chin, one of her grandmother’s old hand sewn quilts wrapped around her. Not because she was cold but because she felt like she needed holding onto. She’d known that she might feel the need for a hug or two while she was here, but she’d thought that would be because of all the memories in the walls surrounding her. As it turned out, the specters in the old house seemed to be friendlier than she had anticipated and she hadn’t really felt alone since she’d got here. Not until tonight. Tonight she felt lonelier than she’d felt in years.

She’d always had a knack for surrounding herself with people. Not that she needed to be with anyone, but it was somehow more comforting to know that her friends were either a text or a block away. She knew she could text her friends now, it wasn’t nearly as late on the other side of the country as it was here, but she also knew they’d be out at a pub or a club having a good time and didn’t need to hear her complaining about something that she told herself was trivial anyway. He wasn’t important. He was just some cute guy whose biceps and triceps and god help her, that god damn amazing gluteus maximus of his were, at most, a pleasant distraction. She’d just let him take up too much of her time. It’s not like there weren’t things he had to do around here.

There were her grandmother’s books to pack away, for instance, she told herself, glancing over at the bookshelves across the dark room filled with first editions and old, dusty copies of Wuthering Heights and Mansfield Park. She’d take some of them home, the rest she planned to put on e-bay.

And that was another thing she needed to do. Now that the phones were being hooked up in the morning, she needed to get online and get in touch with Harlequin and send them an email with the pictures she’d taken of the canvas. If they liked it they’d send a courier for it and she’d be putting a few hundred in her bank account, which she was going to need if she was going to get some clothes that wouldn’t make her stand out like a sore thumb around town and that she didn’t mind getting a little dirty. Now she understood why gramps had spent so much time in overalls.

‘See,’ she told herself with a secretive little smile, ‘you can think about something other than him’. She just needed to keep busy, and there was plenty to do.

‘You’re not here to chase boys’, she reminded herself firmly, ‘no matter how long his eyelashes are or how soft his lips look’. Tabbi’s fingertips pressed against her bottom lip. It was as if all she had to do was close her eyes and she could conjure him up, like a poltergeist that could actually press his lips to hers and leave her shivering in his wake.

She’d just have to keep herself busy and if he asked, she would just have to explain that she had things to do and it wasn’t as if it was a lie. Besides, she told herself as she got to her feet and crawled onto the small, single bed with the lumpy mattress, if she was really that lonely she could always get a cat. At least with a cat, his friends wouldn’t show up and ruin her night.

‘Maybe that had been a lucky escape though’, she told herself as she stared up at the ceiling. If his juvenile, annoying little friends hadn’t shown up maybe they would have gotten carried away and maybe she would have done something she’d regret in the morning. ‘Doubtful’, she mused, grinning to herself. There was something about the electricity that passed between them every time they so much as brushed against one another that told her that even if all that came of it was a one night stand, it would probably be a one night stand that would remain unsurpassed for the rest of her life.

A little shudder went through her entire body and Tabby bit down on her bottom lip to silence a whimper. ‘It doesn’t matter if it would be that good’, she told herself, screwing her eyes shut against the vision of his muscular shoulders and smooth chest moving above her. It would just complicate things. She had to clean up and fix up the house, put it up on the market and get the hell out of dodge before it turned cold and this and every other place on the Eastern Seaboard got lost in the fog and the rain.

‘No, no boys’, she told herself again and turned over on her side and reached for an old teddy bear she’d found in a box earlier that day.

“Just you and me teddy,” she sighed as she began, silently, to count sheep; sheep with gold and green eyes and soft, pink pouty lips.