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May 1, 2009
* * *
The date stung. It was the date of his birth, the date of his death. Little Nathan. His son.
Chest tight, Travis stood there for a long time. Long enough for his legs to cramp and for the pain in his chest to subside. Long enough for him to remember things he didn’t want to. Long enough to face some hard truths. Among them? His past with the only woman he’d loved. He’d always blamed his youth and immaturity for what had happened between him and Ruby. Hell, he’d grabbed at the sad dynamics of his family and used them as an excuse too. He’d acted like a selfish bastard who decided to run from his problems instead of dealing with them. He’d taken the easy way and left Ruby behind, convincing himself it was for the best. He told himself they weren’t good for each other. That they wanted different things. It was all bullshit.
He hadn’t wanted to deal with any of it, and he’d used hockey as a way out.
There was no doubt that he and Ruby should have waited to marry. They were kids, and growing up would have helped a lot. But that didn’t negate how he’d behaved. How he’d embraced a new life without her and left her here to deal with the pain of losing a child. Alone.
He swore and shook his head.
Conversation? He remembered their last conversation vividly. It had been over the phone when she’d called to tell him their son had been born and then died within hours. She’d calmly told him the name and that she would look after all the details of the burial. She’d asked him not to come home. Not to call. Ruby told him she didn’t need anything from him.
He’d sent flowers.
“Fuck,” he muttered, turning away. It had been years since he’d felt like this. Thoughts muddled and confused, he didn’t feel his cell vibrate, and when he did, he absently pulled it from his shorts. It was his pal Marcel, wanting to confirm the deep-sea diving trip.
Travis ran his hand through his sweaty hair, his gaze drawn to the blue slate stone. Drawn to little Nathan.
“Trav? You in? Dave’s got everything looked after. House. Booze. Women.”
“I think I’m gonna pass,” he murmured.
“Pass?” He heard the disbelief in Marcel’s voice. “You sure? Dave and the guys will be disappointed.”
Travis slowly shook his head. Maybe it was time he dealt with his past. Maybe it was time he put some old ghosts to rest. Made things right. Or as right as they could be.
“Yeah. I’m sure.”
He stood there under the glaring hot sun until he noticed a couple watching him a few rows over. Travis pocketed his cell, slipped his earbuds back in, and headed for home.
Chapter 4
“I’m heading down for lunch, Jaylene. Don’t forward any calls unless someone is dying.”
Ruby scooped up her cellphone (just in case someone was dying) and walked past her assistant’s desk. She eyed the private elevator but headed for the stairs instead. She’d slept in—missed her five a.m. workout—and could use the exercise.
Her office suite was bright and airy. It overlooked the lake and let in an incredible amount of sunshine. Today, the soft hues of blue and cream swam in a swath of light, a perfect foil for the simple and elegant furnishings and décor. Normally, these things calmed her, but today? Well, today, nothing seemed right.
“Not even if it’s Ryder?”
Ruby paused at the top of the stairs and scowled. “Especially if it’s Ryder.” She was still annoyed with her brother and didn’t feel like caving so early. And she would cave eventually. When it came to Ryder, she always did.
Less than five minutes later, she walked into the Blue Elephant, the upscale restaurant located in a huge pavilion near the water. She’d partnered with an Indian chef she’d met in London, and the result was a renowned eatery featuring a lush tropical décor with an international cuisine hard to come by in these parts. Raj was an award-winning godsend whose culinary skills were as legendary as his temper. Somehow, he and Ruby clicked, and she counted him among her closest friends.
Raj greeted her at the door, his small, delicate frame dressed impeccably in white Gucci. His thick black hair was slicked back, and a mischievous glint lit his dark eyes. He winked and grabbed her hands warmly into his, lips grazing her cheek as he murmured into her ear.
“You’re having dinner with Mr. MacDougal, no?” His crisp British accent resonated softly as she pulled away with a nod.
“Yes.” Puzzled, she glanced over Raj’s shoulder. “Is he late?” She scanned the restaurant, which, at half-past twelve, was nearly full.
“No. The bloke has been here for nearly twenty minutes,” Raj replied with a smile. “He’s already seated at your private table.” Raj’s smile widened. “I was curious, though, as to who the gentleman is over there. I heard him asking after you.”
Ruby followed Raj’s gaze, and her heart stopped. Literally stopped. She had to take a moment because she couldn’t speak. Her ex-husband was chatting with another man, someone she didn’t recognize, but he was definitely an athlete. She knew the type. Tall. Broad shouldered. Long arms. Muscular thighs. The guy was either into hockey or football.
“He’s got a really nice ass.”
