One Man Rush Page 9

  “I’m overwhelmed,” Marissa said after a long moment. “I’m sorry, Stacy. It’s taking me a minute to process this. Would you like my help with this new guy you’ve met?”

  “I don’t know. No.” She didn’t want to subject Isaac to the kind of hell that Kyle Murphy would undoubtedly go through trying to escape a bunch of greedy dating gurus. Plus, if there was any hope of seeing Isaac again, she wanted to figure that out on her own.

  She had already gathered that he was a bit of a philanthropist from the articles she’d read online. Undoubtedly his trip to the Phantoms’ fundraiser had been in the same vein. Maybe she would run into him again at another local charity function. Her style features for the paper certainly warranted her presence at that sort of thing.

  “Well, I can do a preliminary screen for you at least, to make sure he’s legit. Email me his name and I’ll take care of that.”

  “Thank you. I’ll email you what I’ve found so far, but that’s not why I called.”

  “So how can I help?” Marissa sounded confused and possibly a little exasperated.

  Which was just how Stacy felt so much of the time dealing with her father. But no more. She was done trying to figure out how to make him listen without offending him. Done letting him make her think she wouldn’t succeed on her own.

  Last night she’d seen herself through Isaac Reynolds’s eyes and she hadn’t liked the view.

  “I need a new direction. A total life overhaul.” Looking around her glitzy home, financed by her father, her expensive lifestyle that she could do without, Stacy felt a new sense of purpose. “I’m going to be writing some new things. Blogging some pieces that will be very different from what I do for the paper.”

  Her writing voice was big and offbeat. And since she only felt comfortable exercising it in print, she owed it to herself to start using it.

  “That’s great, but—”

  “I hoped you would read them for me before I put them online.” She trusted Marissa. She’d met her years ago at a Brandy Collins concert after Stacy’s dad had finagled a VIP pass for the show. Stacy had always admired Brandy’s exciting stage presence and energy, but after meeting the mother and daughter in person, it was Marissa who impressed her the most.

  From the way she handled the people backstage, it was obvious the younger woman was the quiet calm beneath the noise and chaos. And she’d been touched at how she’d guided her mom through meetings with the fans, never allowing anyone to take too much of her time.

  Stacy had realized then that her life lacked a Marissa. A stable sounding board who listened and didn’t dictate. While Marissa had a Type A parent with a strong personality, just like Stacy had in her dad, Marissa had found a way to work with her mom instead of being smothered by her. Stacy had never mastered that balance of loving her dad without being under his thumb.

  “Wow. I’d be honored, of course, though I’m not sure if I would be the best critic.”

  “That’s okay. Just be honest and tell me if I’m taking too much of a risk. I’ve made some poor decisions in the past, so I’d like an outside opinion before I do something crazy.” She swallowed hard, thinking as long as she could afford dog food and rent, she’d be okay. “It’s overdue, I know. But I’m finally claiming my independence.”

  * * *

  “EVERYTHING OKAY?” Kyle looked up at Marissa from his spot at her stove where he moved a skillet back and forth across a burner. The scent of frying eggs filled the kitchen.

  She’d offered to make him something to eat before the team flight to Pittsburgh, but when she’d taken the call from Stacy, he’d finished the job. But as delicious as his cooking smelled, she’d rather have a taste of him since he looked good enough to eat. He’d pulled on his jeans and they hung low on his hips, revealing a network of muscles her fingers itched to trace. But he deserved a break to refuel. He’d caused her to see stars the second time they’d made love. She’d barely recovered when the phone rang.

  Now, she didn’t know how to begin to answer his question. How could she tell Kyle that Stacy had made him a hot commodity among the matchmaking community without risking her client confidentiality? Could Kyle unknowingly be sacrificing Phil Goodwell’s support for the youth hockey camp Kyle wanted to establish by not dating Stacy? The ethics of the situation were getting sticky.

  “Just a client going through some personal problems. She wanted my advice on career ideas.” That was true at least.

  “Is that in the matchmaker’s job description?” He sprinkled cheese on top of the omelets he’d made and her mouth watered.

  Apparently good sex made her ravenous. And Kyle seemed to be a very competent cook, seeming comfortable in her kitchen. Perhaps she had drawn unfair conclusions about him by seeing him as a “star” like her mom. Marissa was used to managing her mother’s career and, to a certain extent, her home life, as well, since Brandy Collins had never done much in the way of taking care of herself or her household. But Kyle obviously didn’t expect star treatment. Yet another way he was a down-to-earth guy.

  “No. But she’s become a friend.” She hadn’t fully realized it until Stacy placed the call. But it touched her heart that the younger woman looked to her for advice, especially when Marissa hadn’t been making the best work-related decisions herself lately. She needed to confess that she was…what? Dating Kyle? She had no idea where they stood, but it seemed that she owed Stacy an explanation. “Maybe giving her some guidance will help me figure out some new ideas for my career, too.”

  Belatedly, she realized Kyle needed plates and forks. She hurried around the kitchen to gather serving items and brought them to the wooden bistro table.

  “Don’t tell me I’ve scared you away from matchmaking.” He flipped the omelets in half and slid them onto their plates.

  She smiled at their gargantuan size. Ravenous or not, she’d be eating the eggs he gave her for a week.

  “No. I got into it because I have a knack for it and I enjoy it.” Taking the skillet from him, she put the pan in the sink and gestured for him to have a seat. “But you can’t rush love for the sake of generating a paycheck, and I’m at a position in life where I need a supplemental income that’s more reliable.”

  Preferably large.

  “Because of your mom?” He waited for her to join him before digging in.

  “Yes. Matchmaking would support me just fine. I personally don’t need a big place, but I don’t want to sell my mother’s house when her cognitive rehabilitation therapist says it’s helpful for Mom to be in familiar surroundings. I won’t sacrifice things that anchor her memories when she has such a hard time remembering anything.” She thought about their conversation last night and wished she could have recalled a time when she’d eaten too much cotton candy. Whatever days her mom was recollecting, Marissa would have liked to have been there with her.

  “But why does the income have to come from you? Brandy is a huge star. Can’t you release a greatest hits or something to generate some funds until she’s better?” Kyle frowned in thought. “I could check in with my dad for ideas, if you like. Robert Murphy is the king of making something out of nothing in business. He has a whole team of finance guys who might—”

  “That’s okay.” She wasn’t sure how she felt about that, tying herself even more to Kyle when she’d been so certain she could maintain her distance. She hadn’t had time to think about what this afternoon meant for their future yet. “But that’s very generous of you. Thank you.”

  She knew a little about his family from the preliminary screening that she always did for her clients. The Murphys were based in Boston, where Kyle’s father had made a fortune in real estate and property development after starting with nothing more than a popular clam shack restaurant on Cape Cod. He’d ridden the business boom of the eighties, starting a small inn next to his restaurant. Now, he had a global resort chain with his oldest son poised to take over as CEO. Kyle, the youngest biological son, had distinguished himself as an athlete while
the other brothers had either struck out on their own in business or turned to the military, each one as competitive as the next, by all accounts.

  Kyle shrugged. “It’s an open invitation. But what about the greatest hits thing? Is that an option?”

  “I know my mom’s fans would support something like that, but with so much music available digitally, the profits aren’t in releasing a record. The real money comes from touring.” She’d already investigated that avenue, and the music industry was much different now than ten or fifteen years ago when a greatest hits album would have generated cash. These days, all the music already existed on iPods and computers. Putting it in a new format didn’t lead to big sales.

  Taking a bite of omelet, she savored the food she hadn’t had to cook. It was an unusual treat for her since she’d done all the food prep for both her and her mother for months. “This is delicious, by the way. Thank you so much.”

  “Stick with me, kid. I make a mean spaghetti, too.” He grinned at her over his fork piled high with eggs.

  Did he realize what he was saying? No doubt he’d only meant it as an offhand comment. But what would it be like to see him again? And again?

  “Uh-oh.” He put his fork down.

  “What?”

  “I ruined the moment by talking about a future, didn’t I?”

  “Not at all.” Embarrassed for taking the idea seriously in the first place, she wished they’d been able to keep the lighter mood.

  “I think I’m supposed to wait a few days before I make another date or something, right?” He shook his head, though he didn’t seem terribly serious. “I failed Relationship 101.”

  “Just as well, since we were both very determined not to have a relationship, right?” She took a big bite, determined to move past the awkwardness. She didn’t know where things were headed with Kyle, but she couldn’t deny she was extremely attracted to him. So much so, she found it hard to keep away. Plus, being with him had been a welcome break from worries about finances and her mom. She didn’t want to ruin it now.

  “Maybe.” He frowned.

  Something in his voice sounded strangely ominous.

  “Care to explain?” she prompted, surprised how much she really wanted to know.

  “It’s been a long held belief of mine that being involved with someone during the play-offs is actually detrimental to my game,” he explained, downing the rest of his orange juice. “But this morning, something weird happened at practice.”

  “Such as?”

  “I missed a routine goal. More than one, actually.” His eyes darkened to a whole new shade of green she hadn’t seen before.

  His obvious frustration reminded her how seriously he took his career. She’d gathered as much from their conversation the night before about him not wanting to date. But seeing his mood shift to this level of intensity right before her eyes told her he wouldn’t allow anything to get in the way of his sport.

  “Do you think it could be from something simple like lack of sleep? I used to help my mother troubleshoot after her performances when she wasn’t happy with them, and sometimes it stemmed from rudimentary causes.” She’d enjoyed those conversations, even when her mom had been frustrated and upset. Marissa rarely had anything to offer on Brandy’s career, but she was good with details. “We’d spend a lot of time listening to recordings or going over video footage for missed cues, and hours later, we’d realize she just hadn’t been eating well or something small like that.”

  “No.” He shook his head, quickly dismissing the idea. “I take care of my body the same way the team equipment manager takes care of my skates. I have long-standing, effective routines to maintain optimum performance. I know how long I need to sleep depending if I’m at home or on the road. My diet is dictated by my workouts. The workouts are prescribed by what demands I need to make of my body on the ice. It’s very exact.”

  “That sounds highly regimented,” she agreed, intrigued that he treated his body like a machine. “Do you make adjustments as you age? Surely you have different requirements from year to year as you—”

  “It’s not lack of sleep,” he told her flatly. His fork clattered to the plate as he gave her a level look. “I missed the shots because I was thinking about you.”

  * * *

  KYLE HAD NOT ONLY MANAGED to fail Relationship 101 while seated at Marissa’s kitchen table that morning. He was also failing Romance 101, as well.

  He should have known that a woman wouldn’t respond well to being told she was the reason behind his flat performance on the ice. Marissa looked offended as she saved her leftover omelet in the fridge and then cleared the table.

  “So let me fill in the blanks. You don’t normally date women while your team is in the play-offs. But after you went home frustrated last night and played poorly today, you figure you should date me, after all?” She kept her volume even, but the pace of her speech accelerated, clueing him in she was not pleased. “Are you going to head for the rink now that we’ve slept together to see if your shot is back in top form?”

  “That’s not what I meant.” Although he could see her point. When she summed it up that way, it sure made him sound like a jerk. “I never would have come over here today if I didn’t want to see you. Badly. The stuff about my problems on the ice—that’s subsidiary to the fact that I really want to be with you.”

  Rising from his seat, he stepped between her and the table so she couldn’t clear anything else off of it without going through him.

  Effectively stalled by the barrier of his body, she looked up at him with a touch of wariness in her violet eyes. With her hair down and a fringe of bangs brushing her brows, she appeared younger than when they’d first met. More vulnerable, somehow.

  “I don’t want to be another prescribed measure to keep you in peak performing condition.” Her words were quieter now, her tone perfectly reasonable.

  That didn’t stop the sting of the suggestion.

  “Fair enough,” he agreed, dropping his hands on her shoulders. Grateful she didn’t seem to mind.

  Folding her against him, he held her there, liking the way they fit.

  “Where do we go from here?” she asked, the scent of her fragrance still faint in her hair if he breathed in deeply enough.

  The hint of perfume had him responding instantly, his body ready for her.

  “Mmm.” She hummed against him, her hips shifting against him as she noticed the reaction. “I don’t know if we can solve our problems that way, but I’ll admit it’s tempting.”

  “You’re not kidding.” Tipping her face up to his, he kissed her. “But if I get sidetracked, I’m going to miss the team flight to Pittsburgh for sure.”

  “I thought you had today off?” She edged back to meet his gaze.

  “I do. It’s a travel day, though. We play Pittsburgh tomorrow night. Then there’s another travel day. Then we play Tampa Bay. I’ll be back in town late Tuesday night. Actually, early Wednesday morning. We’ll fly back right after the game.”

  “Maybe I can see you after your practice Wednesday morning.”

  He liked that she wanted to see him that soon. But he wanted to see her sooner.

  “How about you come to one of the road games?” Today was Saturday. He didn’t think he could wait until Wednesday to have her again. Not when he wanted her this badly an hour after they’d gotten out of bed.

  “Honestly? I would enjoy the time away. But I really need to focus on my mom.” She seemed to hesitate, as if she had more to say.

  “If it’s a matter of keeping on the nurse for extra hours, I’d be happy to—”

  “It’s not just that, but thank you. I really need to find an answer to the ongoing financial dilemmas.” She worried her lower lip with her teeth. “My mom’s financial advisor stole her life savings a few years ago, so her funds are too depleted to be of much help. There’s an experimental drug that could help her and I’m determined to afford it. I’ve got to figure out a way to work harder or leverag
e some asset I haven’t thought of, or…I don’t know.”

  No wonder she’d wanted to match him up with her client so badly. She’d needed to close the deal for a good reason. So much so that he wished now he’d just gone on the date.

  “Damn, Marissa. I could have at least had dinner with that client of yours if it meant—”

  “Don’t.” She looked a little bit like the naughty librarian again when she pressed a finger over his lips. “Don’t even suggest selling yourself out like that. That was never an option.”

  Her fierce command—a defense of him, really—made him smile even as he still hated the fact that she was dealing with problems of this magnitude. He needed to find a way to help her without hurting her pride, partly because he felt responsible for putting her in a position where she couldn’t provide her client with the introduction that would have been a good payday. And partly because he didn’t want to see her so worried and stressed when she was already doing everything she could to take care of her mom.

  He’d been raised to put his family first, and although he’d never been in a position where he’d had to make sacrifices for them, he would do it in a minute. He admired that Marissa would do the same thing.

  “Okay.” Nodding, he plucked her finger from his mouth and kissed the back of her hand. His tongue darted out for a taste. “I just figured that it would be easier to be together on the road since the attention from the matchmakers is going to make private time impossible for a while.”

  Flipping her hand over, he kissed the palm, too, lingering over the sensitive center.

  “Your schedule is public knowledge. Don’t be surprised if they follow you.” Her voice hit an awkward note as she sucked in a breath.

  “You’re kidding.” He’d lose his mind if he had to face a bunch of stupid media attention because of this. Nothing sucked away personal time and distracted an athlete like manufactured headlines and the questions that came as a result.