Chapter Nine

Four pans spit and sizzled and smoked on the stove. Landon sighed as he dumped another burnt pancake in the trash and cleared his throat into the phone tucked against his shoulder. “Becky? You were saying?”

“What are you doing?”

“Making breakfast. I figured I should use some of the food my sweet sister stocked my fridge with.” He poked the bacon with a fork, then frowned at it. Damn stuff cooked too slow. “I’m tired of eating out, and I miss the breakfasts you used to make me.”

“Yeah, you were spoiled.” Becky laughed. “But don’t you have a girlfriend to do that for you? We both know you can’t cook.”

“No, you just wouldn’t let me. I think I can manage.”

“And the girlfriend?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” The dryer in the closet down the hall beeped. Landon spooned some batter onto the hot frying pan, then checked the hash browns in the oven with the bacon fork. His knuckles grazed the red hot element. “Fu—fudge!”

“What happened?”

“It’s hot!” He chuckled as she muttered under her breath, clenched and unclenched his throbbing fist, and headed to the washer-and-dryer nook to retrieve his laundry. “I know you and Mom think I need a woman to take care of me, but I’ve been managing just fine on my own.”

“Landon, it’s been two years—”

“We’re not discussing this.” He dumped his clothes into a laundry basket and straightened to shake out his dress shirt before it wrinkled. “Hey, guess what?”

Becky was silent for a few minutes, breathing the way she did when she was counting to ten in her head. Finally, she replied, “what?”

“I did my own wash—separated the colors from the whites and everything.” He smirked at her long-suffering sigh. “Aren’t you proud of me?”

“You are such a pain in the ass. Fine, you don’t need a girlfriend.” She said it like she didn’t really believe it, but she probably wanted to move on to nagging about something else. “There is more to life than hockey though. Please tell me you do more than work out and practice.”

“I do more than work out and practice.”

“Like what?”

He thought of his trip to Blades & Ice and grinned. “You really want to know?”

“Oh. That.” She sighed. “Well, at least you have a hobby.”

A hobby? He snorted. I guess you could call it that. “So what about you? Dickhead start paying child support yet?”

Her sharp exhale sounded loud in the phone. “We are so not discussing that.”

“Fair enough.” After bringing his clothes to his room, he laid a fresh suit out on his rumpled bed. “So how’s Mom? Her and Dad back from their—what is it, third honeymoon?”

“Not yet. They . . .” She paused, then groaned. “What are you doing now?”

“About to get changed.” He looked down at his faded jeans, with the left knee ripped and the right almost worn through. His outfit for his early morning jog. Not something he could wear to his first preseason game. Or any games. Richter had included a pretty strict dress code in his contract. “I want to head to the forum early to meet the new goalie coach, so I can’t—”

“You’re cooking, Landon. You should stay in the kitchen.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He rolled his eyes and started down the hall. His eyes widened as he caught sight of the flames rising from the frying pan. “Shit!”

“What—?”

Tossing the phone onto the table in the hall, he darted into the kitchen, rushed to the sink, and filled a coffee mug with water. The damn bacon was crispy now—he tossed the water and threw himself back as a huge fireball flared up.

“Holy fuck!”

The smoke detector screamed and black smoke filled the room in waves. Scrambling down the hall, he grabbed the phone.

“Landon!”

“I’ll call you back.” Without waiting for an answer, he hung up and dialed 911 as he abandoned his apartment to the fire.

* * * *

Sitting on the sidewalk, Landon turned his phone in his hand and stifled a cough with his sleeve. A medic approached him, but he waved her off. He didn’t need to go to the hospital—unless it was to have his head examined. How the hell could he have been so stupid?

The entire building had been evacuated as a precaution, but thankfully the fire had been contained to his apartment. Still, it made him sick to see the mother with her baby pacing outside in her pj’s, trying to soothe the infant as the firemen rushed in and out of the building and the sirens wailed. Again his actions could have cost someone their life.

His phone vibrated in his hand. He checked the number, then brought it shakily to his ear, his voice raspy as he spoke. “Good morning, Silver. How you doing, beautiful?”

“Fine, I just—” She cut herself off. “Are you okay?”

“Just had a little mishap.”

“What kind of mishap?” She didn’t wait a breath before snapping. “You told me to call you if something was up. You said we were friends. Doesn’t that go both ways?”

“Yes, but—”

“Uck! Men are such hypocrites!” She let out an angry cat growl. “You better start talking, mister.”

He clenched his jaw to keep from smiling. Damn, I’d love to see that girl all riled up. “You’re right. I would have been pretty pissed if your house caught fire and you didn’t call me. Can I make it up to you by letting you buy me breakfast?”

“Your—you—What?” This time she hissed, “Where. Are. You?”

He gave her directions, remained silent as she cursed at him, then hung up after promising not to go anywhere. Only after staring at the phone for about ten minutes did it occur to him that he never let anyone speak to him like she had. And she was a sub to boot.

Not your sub.

He stuffed his phone in his pocket and scowled at the thick hose snaking across the lawn and into the apartment.

Right. Mustn’t forget that.

* * * *

“Why are you just sitting there? Why aren’t you with the medic?” Silver glared at Landon and slapped his chest as he stood. “Do you have any idea what smoke inhalation can do to you?”

He caught her wrists and smiled down at her. Soot and stubble darkened his cheeks, stealing some of his disarming charm. “I’m fine.”

Her body shook with fear and rage. Damn it, she could have lost him. They were just getting to know each other and it could have been over. Her vision blurred and she sucked in a deep breath as a hand settled on her shoulder. The way Dean steadied her reaffirmed her decision to call him on the way here. Most times she wanted to scream and throw things at him, and after yesterday she should know better than to let him get close, but at the moment, she welcomed his strength.

“She’s right, Landon.” Dean moved to her side and gave Landon one of those don’t-bother-arguing looks. “And with what she’s invested in you, I suggest you do as she says.”

Landon’s jaw hardened. He straightened and opened his mouth.

“Don’t.” Silver pressed her fingers over his lips. Men and their stupid pride. “Please, just do this for me. I let you take care of me. If the medic says you’re fine, I’ll drop it. But I need to know for sure.”

His eyes softened and he leaned down until his forehead touched hers. “Fine. But after that, we’re going to have breakfast.”

She laughed. “Yes, I remember. And I’m buying.” Glancing over at the apartment, she swallowed. The big brick structure looked untouched except for a single, broken window. Lingering smoke formed a paste on her tongue and a coal-like lump in her throat. “I guess you lost everything . . .”

The moisture in her eyes helped clear away the scratchy sensation, but she knew she was way too close to getting silly emotional. Landon was okay. That was all that mattered.

“Hey.” Landon took her hand and squeezed. He smiled when she looked up at him. “It’s just stuff. Most of my valuables are in storage at my parents’ place. I didn’t lose anything that can’t be replaced.”

“But—” Silver cut herself off as an elderly couple ambled by. She tightened her grip on Landon’s hand as he watched them pass, guilt casting shadows over his face.

“How did the fire start?” Dean’s tone had a sharp edge. He avoided her glare and focused on Landon. “If you don’t mind my asking?”

Landon’s brow furrowed. He stared at his grey sneakers. “Grease fire. And my own stupidity. I tried to put it out with water.”

“Jesus.” Dean shook his head. “You’re lucky. Are you sure you didn’t get burned?”

“Wait? What’s wrong with putting a fire out with water?” Silver bit her lip when Dean muttered under his breath and massaged his temples with his fingers. “What?”

“Remind me to keep you both out of my kitchen.” Dean laughed, groaned, and fiddled with his tie. “I’ve got to get back—the new guy should be joining the team today, and I want to see what I’m dealing with. Can you stay with him?”

Wow. Silver nodded, speechless. He actually trusted her to take care of their most valuable player? Would wonders never—

“I won’t keep her long,” Landon said. “She’s got stuff to do—”

“Yes. And I believe her priorities are well in hand.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

“That remains to be—”

Silver threw her arms up in the air, then grabbed both men’s hands to pull them away from where the firemen were dragging the hose out of the apartment. “Stop it. Both of you. Dean, you’ve got my number. I’ll check in later.” She turned to Landon and put her hands on her hips. “We are friends. Do we have to go over how things work both ways?”

Lips twitching like he wanted to laugh, Landon shook his head and hooked his thumbs to his pockets. “Non, mignonne. I’ve got it.”

“Good.” She gave Dean a distracted nod when he said goodbye, her gaze locked on the angry red blotch covering the knuckles of Landon’s right hand. “You liar!”

Landon blinked and frowned. “Excuse me?”

“I will not!” She shackled her hand around his wrist and stomped her foot. “You . . . you . . . Arg! I thought you said you didn’t get burnt!”

“Ah . . .” His tongue traced his bottom lip. He gave her a disarming smile, and she wanted to strangle him. “That.”

“Yes. That.” She dragged him toward the ambulance. “We are getting this looked at right now. And if you argue with me, I’ll . . .” She scowled at his chuckle. “I’ll have Dean bench you for a month.”

That sobered him. For a split second. Then he grinned. “Bench or scratch?”

“Both!” She backhanded his hard chest when he laughed. “Oh, I am so going to learn that stupid game so I can punish you when you don’t behave.”

He cocked his head as they stood by the back of the ambulance and reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I can teach you.”

Her cheeks warmed and she checked to make sure the fire was really out. Besides some thinning smoke, it seemed to be. She wrinkled her nose. “I’d like that.”

A medic approached, her professional mask slipping as she looked from Silver to Landon. “Have you changed your mind, Mr. Bower?”

“Yes, he has.” Silver tugged his arm and pushed him to sit on the bumper of the ambulance. “Sit.”

He made a funny expression, as though a great big conflict was going on in his head. Suddenly calm spread over his features and he nodded. And sat.