Loving Between the Lines, page 1
Table of Contents
Loving Between the Lines | (Silverberry Seduction Seasoned Romance Series, Book Two)
Desperate saves, unbelievable goals, bloody determination. | Hockey. It’s Canadian, eh?
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
BONUS RECIPE
COPYRIGHT PAGE
Also By Brenda Margriet
Loving Between the Lines
(Silverberry Seduction Seasoned Romance Series, Book Two)
A one-night stand neither will forget.
She wanted a final fling before choosing science to make her a single mom. He needed an escape from the regret grinding him into dust. Her baby isn’t his...but maybe family is more than DNA.
After a childhood being dragged around the continent by her musician parents, Lynn Kolmyn has stretched her roots deep into her chosen hometown. When her absconding fiancé screws up her careful plans, she decides to become a mother at almost forty, realizing the only person she can rely on is herself.
Benjamin Whitestone was the hometown hockey hero until a spectacular mistake led to failure and condemnation. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t seem to make it up to his parents, his teammates, or his fans. In a final bid to prove himself, he accepts a job coaching the junior team where he used to be a star, determined to rewrite history.
When Lynn and Benjamin collide—literally—they are both shocked to see the stranger from a single sensual night two years ago. Now the past tangles with the future...a future neither of them was expecting.
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Desperate saves, unbelievable goals, bloody determination.
Hockey. It’s Canadian, eh?
CHAPTER ONE
Lynn Kolmyn had not envisioned this on her first day back after a year of maternity leave.
“I am so sorry.” She stood in front of Cynthie Neal’s desk, jiggling her wailing son on her hip. Her boss regarded her with raised eyebrows. Panic curdled her belly and she swallowed. “The daycare had a flood overnight. They’ve promised me an alternate location will be arranged by tomorrow but I had nowhere else to bring Oscar today.”
Cynthie’s matte red lips pressed into a thin line. “As we discussed, I’m not totally adverse to having children at the office for short periods of time, but I don’t see how you, or anyone else, will get any work done with this”—she waggled her fingers in Oscar’s direction—“going on.”
Lynn couldn’t blame her. Her son’s protests had risen in volume since she’d stepped into the room. The back of her throat burned with frustration.
“Give me one minute.” Hurrying to her desk, one of two in the outer office, she scrabbled through the backpack she’d tossed beside it, searching for the baby biscuits she’d shoved in it this morning.
At the other desk, Sarah Little watched, a sympathetic expression on her round, cheerful face. “Need some help?”
Lynn pulled out the foil package and held it out triumphantly. “Got it.” She smiled her thanks at Sarah’s offer and hustled back to the inner office. Plopping down into the visitor’s chair, she ripped the package open with her teeth, slid out a cookie, and handed it to Oscar. He grabbed it eagerly and shoved it in his mouth.
Silence fell. The tension banding across her shoulder blades eased a fraction.
She spit the corner of foil into her fist as discreetly as she could. “I feel terrible about this. I thought he’d be happy enough for an hour or two. At least long enough for me to get up to speed so I don’t waste more time tomorrow. I should have just called.” When the daycare had notified her it was closed, delaying her scheduled return to work had seemed unsupportable and bringing Oscar with her the only choice.
Now the squalling had stopped Cynthie’s pinched nostrils relaxed. “Yes, you probably should have.” Her dry tone held little censure, though, and Lynn saw a gleam of amusement in the other woman’s sharp blue eyes.
She slumped back in the seat, relief softening her spine. Thank god Cynthie was a strict but understanding woman. “I promise it won’t happen again.” It shouldn’t have happened once, Lynn berated herself. She always had back up plans for her back up plans. But things had changed in the year since Oscar’s birth. Some days she was thrilled to make it out of her pajamas, let alone make contingency plans for imaginary scenarios.
“I suggest you head home today and try again tomorrow. But since you’re here, there is something I might as well mention.” She picked up a pen and slipped it through her fingers, back and forth, back and forth. “The marketing coordinator for the Canyon Cats quit. Peterson Brewster asked if we could help out until a replacement is found. I want you to handle it.”
Lynn’s main duty as arena event director was to assist the businesses and organizations that rented the facility. Most of the concerts, trade shows, and sports tournaments were single night or once-a-year occurrences. Not so the Prince George Canyon Cats. The junior hockey team played more than thirty games at home from September to March—more if they made the playoffs. Not that they had in recent years, but that was beside the point. What with training camps and practices and other team events, the Canyon Cats were vital to the financial health of the arena—and as such needed to be kept happy.
“What about my regular duties?” The marketing coordinator was a fulltime position. How could she add that to her plate and not become an absentee mom? She needed to work to support her son, but this was more than she’d been expecting. Mind you, she loved her job with all its challenges and her brain was already whirling with promotional ideas for the team, even as her stomach roiled at the thought of being away from Oscar longer hours.
Maybe she wouldn’t feel so torn about the conundrum if she’d been in her twenties, but becoming a first-time mom at thirty-nine made every moment with him precious and fragile.
“Sarah can finish the projects she started while covering your mat leave and continue to pick up some of the slack. But it will require more time and effort, I know that. I can’t see any other way around it. We can’t say no to Peterson.” Cynthie aligned the pen on her desk perfectly with the edge of her blotter. “Hopefully he will hire someone within a month or so.”
She nodded with resignation. “I’ll make it work.” She rubbed her chin on Oscar’s head, inhaling his fresh scent. His hair was finally thickening, the reddish-brown showing a tendency to curl. Sticky fingers gripped her bare wrist and her heart swelled at the innocent touch. How was she going to survive not being with him all day? “Thanks for the heads up. We can talk about it more tomorrow.”
“Sounds good.” Cynthie rose and Lynn followed suit. Oscar wriggled restlessly and rubbed his eyes. “Looks like someone is ready for a nap.”
“Yes.” Neither of them had had a good sleep the night before, which might have accounted for his fractiousness this morning. “Again, I’m sorry about today. I promise to make up for it. See you tomorrow, Cynthie.”
BENJAMIN WHITESTONE stepped into the concourse of the arena, closed the door to the Canyon Cats team offices behind him, and leaned against the red-painted brick wall. Pressing his fingertips into the rough surface, he squeezed his eyes shut and breathed deeply.
When Peterson Brewster had summoned him to his office that morning, he hadn’t been able to suppress the guilty feeling he’d done something wrong. He’d only been head coach of the Canyon Cats for two weeks and logic dictated he had no reason to worry that his performance had been judged subpar already.
Logic hadn’t stopped him from worrying before, and it hadn’t then, either.
Turned out Brewster had just wanted to welcome him formally to the organization. He’d met the very involved owner during the hiring process but he’d been out of town since Benjamin’s return to Prince George. Now the meeting was over, he could concentrate on his next challenge—his first official practice. Training camp had ended and the roster was set. The hardest work was about to begin.
Taking one last deep breath, he pushed off the wall and strode toward the stairs leading down to ice level. As he reached the door to the arena administration offices, it swung open. He dodged to avoid being struck by the heavy metal panel. A woman with her arm s full of child stumbled into him.
“Careful now.” He gripped her biceps to steady her. Two black bags draped off her shoulders and the sharp corner of one thudded against his thigh as she spun around. He released her and rubbed his leg.
“Sorry.” She shifted the baby to her other hip and gave him a quick, harried glance before focusing once more on the squirming, squawking bundle. He’d had little exposure to children, but given the length of the legs kicking at her thighs and the arms flailing about her head, this was no newborn. Other than that, he had no clue. “I should have been more careful when I opened the door. I hope I didn’t hit you.”
That voice. Husky and low, it evoked a sudden memory of subdued lighting, sultry jazz, and smoky whiskey. “Lynn?” His palms tingled, remembering the smooth curves of the shoulders he’d just been clutching.
Her chin lifted and their eyes met. For a moment her expression remained blank, and then she blinked.
“Benjamin?” The baby continued to wriggle and wail and she bounced and jiggled in the age-old way of mothers everywhere. “What are you doing here?”
He could only stare. He’d thought of Lynn more often than a one-night stand deserved. Especially a one-night stand that had occurred two years ago. Of course, it had also been the day after his father’s funeral. Maybe the pain of that time and the comfort she’d given him was why she’d stuck in his mind more than any woman he’d slept with—before or since.
She asked you a question. Answer, you dummy. “I’m the new head coach. Of the Canyon Cats.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re Benjamin Whitestone?”
In the dim light of the jazz lounge where they’d met—and later, in the hotel room he’d brought her to—he’d been too caught up in first misery and then passion to remember the colour of her irises, but saw now they were a bright pale blue. “Yes?” He couldn’t help the upward lilt, though it made him sound like an idiot. Reeling from this unexpected encounter, he wasn’t certain of anything, even his own name.
“I read you’d been hired, but I didn’t realize that Benjamin was, well, that Benjamin.”
Since they hadn’t bothered to exchange last names at their first meeting that made sense. “I’ve thought of you. Often.” The truth blurted out before he could stop it. “How have you been?”
Her eyebrows quirked up and she shifted the now restlessly dozing baby on her hip. “I’m doing well. This is my son Oscar. He’s a year old. Just last week, actually.”
His head spun, as if a giant defencemen had laid him out flat with a body check and his skull had bounced off the ice. Scrambling to do the math, he stuttered, “A year? And we...is he...”
“No.” Her tone was firm and laced with amusement. “Relax. He’s not yours.”
“Oh.” Surely the rush flooding his body was relief. He’d never wanted to have kids. He’d been a disappointment as a son and couldn’t imagine what a mess he’d make of being a father. “So you’re married?” Oh, god. Had she been married when they’d had their night together? She’d said she was single—he remembered asking—but had she lied?
“Also no.” The amusement was gone, exasperation in its place. “Before you jump to any more conclusions, let me explain. Though I can’t see how it’s any of your business.” The baby—whose name he’d already forgotten—lifted his head from her shoulder and squawked. She cradled his skull in her hand and joggled rapidly. “I’m in a hurry to get home so he can have a proper nap, so you’ll have to save any questions for later. I am not and never have been married. I wanted a child, so I did in vitro fertilization, starting the process a month after we...met. Oscar is the result of that process.” The baby’s squalling took on a frantic tone. “I have to go. Congratulations on the new job. Good luck.”
Before Benjamin could say another word—which was probably for the best, given his foot-in-mouth disease—she was gone.
CHAPTER TWO
Benjamin made his way down the wide flight of stairs to ice level, stunned and dazed by the chance meeting. The players would be waiting in the dressing room, but he decided he needed a minute, so made his way to the players’ bench.
He gripped the wide wooden edge of the rink boards. The glistening ice, smooth and unmarked by the lethally sharp skates soon to be powering across it, taunted him. Shaking off thoughts of Lynn, he focused on the reason he’d returned to Prince George.
A battle would be fought on this ice, and on ice just like it in arenas across Western Canada. A battle for redemption. A battle he had to win.
His heart beat heavily in his chest, thundering with the anxiety that was a long familiar companion. Others might view him as washed up at thirty-five, but he’d made a vow to stop thinking of himself that way, and taking this job had been the first step.
“Ready, Coach?”
He turned to the man who had appeared at his side. Levi Ghostkeeper stared at him with challenge in his jutted chin and narrowed eyes. As assistant coach of the Prince George Canyon Cats for the past five seasons, people in the know—as well as Levi himself—had expected he’d fill the head coach position. Instead, Benjamin had been hired. Levi had made his displeasure clear from the moment of their introduction.
And continued to do so every chance he got.
“Bring them out.” His fingers aching with tension, he released the rail and slid his hands into the bulky gloves he’d tucked under his arm. Levi vanished down the tunnel leading behind the bleachers, his shouts echoing off the concrete walls and floor. A surge of adrenalin made Benjamin’s face tingle and he lifted his chin to scan the empty arena.
Remembering the rush of six-thousand fans cheering when he stepped on the ice, the hometown star that was going to set the hockey world on fire.
Remembering the boos and hisses when he’d failed them all.
Like a gathering storm, he sensed the approach of the young men that had been placed under his authority. Casual profanities and shouted insults, the soft thudding of skates on padded flooring and sharp creaking of protective gear, reached him before the first player came into view. He stood between the metal bench and the wooden boards, nodding at those that made eye contact as they passed, making note of the ones that didn’t. It was his job to meld them into a unit, from the sixteen-year-old rookies dreaming of national league glory to the twenty-year-old veterans learning to accept unwelcome reality.
And if he did his job right, give them all the chance to celebrate the success he’d denied himself.
The crisp sound of blades cutting ice did little to fill the huge space. Gazing up at the enormous score clock hanging from the rafters like a guillotine, Benjamin took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and stepped through the gate, his skates as comfortable as slippers, his strokes swift and sure. He glided to a stop on the Canyon Cats logo in the centre of the ice and blew his whistle.
“Bring it in, boys. It’s time to get to work.”
LYNN DIDN’T LET HERSELF be distracted by thoughts of Benjamin Whitestone until she had Oscar safely tucked in his crib at home. Sorry, officer. I ran that stop sign with my baby in the back seat because I was reliving the hottest one-night stand I ever had. That it was her only one-night stand was a moot point. The passion of those hours was seared into her very sinews.
What a morning. First the panicky call from her daycare provider about the flood, the impulsive and ultimately insane decision to bring Oscar to work, and the twist-of-fate meeting with a man who’d haunted her dreams for two years.
In the spare room that doubled as her home office, she unpacked her laptop from her messenger bag, determined to review emails while Oscar slept. Cynthie may have been understanding but Lynn held herself to a higher standard. One she’d completely failed to attain that morning.
Before settling to work, she went to the kitchen to refill her water bottle. As she held it under the stream from the tap, her eye caught the infinity symbol tattooed on her wrist. It was so familiar she rarely noticed it, but today it blazed off her skin like a beacon.
The day she’d had it inked had been the day she’d decided to skip the husband stage of her life plan and move onto the baby stage.
