Timewas suspended on that piano bench. Eventually, he pulled away and covered hisface. “Jesus, what a fucking wuss.”
Sheswept the backs of her hands over her cheeks. “You’re no wuss, Beck. You love yourmom. Being sad she’s gone is normal.”
Hedropped his hands and pinned her eyes. “Everyone tells me I need to talk aboutit, but they don’t know jack.”
“You’reright; they don’t. And neither do I, but I’m here.”
He rana finger along her cheek. “I’d rather talk to you than some head doctor. Oranyone else I can think of.”
Shenodded, expecting him to close off as he’d done before. But he surprised her.
“Ifound her on the floor, by the dishwasher, when I got home from school one day.Walked in griping about some stupid kid crap, and there she was, staring at theceiling slack-jawed. I thought she was pulling my leg at first, but when Ibegged her to get up, she didn’t. Some inner part of me screamed that she justneeded to wake up. I grabbed her shoulders and hauled her to me. Air rushed outof her, and her head flopped back and made this sickening crunch. Cooperfound me later, sitting on the floor with Mom’s head in my lap. I don’tremember it, but he says I kept patting her face and pleading with her to getup. He’s the one who called Dad. To this day, I can see the pattern on thatfloor. Vividly. And Mom’s skin, cold and gray. And her blank stare.”
“Oh,Beck.”
“Heartattack. No warning. She was young, Andie, barely older than you are now. Waytoo young to go. Just like that girl in Minneapolis—except she didn’t die,thank God.” Fresh tears rimmed and spilled down his cheeks.
“Thegirl’s heart defect wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known. She chose toparty with you—she could just as easily have gotten high with a girlfriend. Herfiancé, even. And your mom dying wasn’t your fault either.”
Hepulled up the hem of his shirt and blotted his eyes. “Mom was definitely myfault.”
“How?”She grasped his arms and scanned his face.
Hisbreath hitched. “Because she worried about money, about how to make ends meetand still pay for my hockey. Worried about getting me the best opportunities,the best equipment. She worried they couldn’t put Coop and me both throughhockey programs and that she wasn’t fair to her sons.”
“How doyou know? Did your dad tell you that?” Paige’s mind raced, imagining theenormity of the guilt Beckett’s younger self had shouldered. Would his dadtell him something like that? She couldn’t fathom it.
Beckettshook his head. “No. Dad says Cooper wasn’t motivated, so they decided againstit. But she worried. I know she did. I used to see her crying over bills. Ittears me apart to this day.”
Paigerubbed his back. “Beck, I think you’ve been beating yourself up over somethingyou had absolutely no control over. Even if your mom fretted over finances, itwas outweighed by how proud she was of you. You said she came to all your homegames and yelled louder than anyone. Can you imagine what a thrill it was forher to watch you play? What a special gift she got to nurture?”
Hiseyes sank into her, and she gave him a hesitant half-smile. He leaned in andkissed her, breaking it off when the oven timer dinged.
“Hungry?”He swiped away the last of his tears.
“Famished.”
“Good.Then the crap I serve you will taste better.”
Becketthad salvaged some onions, mushrooms, and peppers, mixing them with Italiansausage chunks in a sort of frittata concoction he baked along with garlicbread. He tossed a salad and pulled the cork on a bottle of Chianti as Paige setthe table.
Withher first bite, he raised his eyebrows in a question.
“Thisis delicious, Beck,” she mumbled around the food.
Helifted his fork. “Good. I like my shirt on you, by the way.”
Sodo I.
Overdinner, they talked about places he’d traveled in his career, circling back tothe incident in Minneapolis. Might as well get that out too.
“Youcould have walked away, Beck. Why didn’t you?”
“Really?Have you never watched CSI? I left behind plenty of DNA. Besides, she knew whoI was, and so did her friends. But mostly I couldn’t leave her there alone. Shewas so cold. Even I’m not that big a dick.” His shoulders sagged. “If thesettlement makes her life right again, then I guess … I just hope she’s okay.”
“Haveyou reached out to her?”
He shuthis eyes. “My lawyer says not to.”
Timefor a cool change. “Sowhat about the modeling? Will you do it?”
“Prettysure. I’ll have to spend time in Chicago first—Christ! I forgot to tell youHammacher’s bringing us an offer. After that meeting, I go straight to Las Vegas.”
“What’sin Las Vegas—besides scantily clad women?” She was relieved to see his lipscurve.
“That’swhere the shoot is. I guess they’re using desert landscapes and casinos for thebackdrops.” He darted his eyes at her. “Come with me and keep me out oftrouble. It is Sin City after all.”
“You’replanning on getting into trouble?”
Thesmile broadened. “No, but I like having you around, and if it convinces you togo with me, I’m ahead of the game.”
“Um,that brings up something …”
Hepaused mid-forkful.
“I hopeI didn’t make you uncomfortable with the, ah, condom thing.” She bit down onher thumbnail.
Heshoveled the bite in his mouth and chewed. “Not at all. That’s my department,but I let it slip. First time it’s happened. No idea why, other than my abilityto think was annihilated.” He lifted his eyes to hers.
“Really?”
“Really.”
Sheheld back the other question on her tongue, but he seemed to read her mindagain, reaching across the table to take her hand. “Don’t stress, pixie. I getit. For the record, I get myself checked routinely, and I’ve never had an STD.My latest tests were done at the same time I got medical clearance to play, andthey came back clean.”
Shedropped her head in her hands. “I’m sorry. This is so awkward. God, how doyou—” She brought her head up, horrified she’d almost blurted the rest of thethought. How do you have these conversations with every woman you bed?
Hisgaze sharpened. “How do I what?”
Hercheeks blazed while she searched
