Legend (Arizona Vengeance #3)(18)

“Why can’t you?” he asks as he leans his head back to look at me.

“I had really bad uterine fibroids. Suffered them for years. Had surgeries that removed them but they always came back. It was really painful. I mean…knock me on my ass painful, and a lot of heavy bleeding.” I pause and take a deep breath, letting out slowly to hopefully quell the jitters in my voice. “And so I had to weigh the long-term relief versus getting pregnant.”

Legend hugs me again, placing his lips against my forehead briefly before he says, “I can’t imagine the pain you must have been in. I know it had to be unbearable for you to make that decision.”

I blink back my tears, because it’s over and done with. I went through the grief two years ago when I had the procedure done, and I’m only being sappy now because Legend is being so kind and I really kind of like him a lot.

    I give a cough to clear my throat and pull out of his embrace. He gets a brave smile from me. “I’m good. I had it done two years ago and I don’t regret it at all. It changed my life for the better.”

It’s like a bell goes off in Legend’s head and his eyes flare. “The little scars on your stomach…”

I nod with a laugh. “Yeah…that was the surgery. They were able to do it with a laparoscope so it was minimally invasive. I’m surprised you noticed them.”

After all, we were going at it hard and rough last night and it was over quick.

“I noticed a lot about your body, Pepper,” he says gruffly. “But I bet there’s more still to learn.”

“Maybe,” I say with an impish tilt to my head.

By the look in his eyes, Legend takes my noncommittal response as a challenge and starts to walk me back to the refrigerator again. My body flushes at the thought of him fucking me again so quickly, but sadly, we’re interrupted by a tiny cry emitting from the baby monitor speaker we put in the kitchen.

Legend’s head falls so his forehead rests against mine. He holds it there a moment, and then with a sigh, tells me, “We’ll resume this later.”

“Later,” I agree softly and then push him away from me. “Now, go get your daughter and I’ll finish cooking. Then I need to run home for a quick shower before we do the nanny interviews.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he says and then gives me a slight slap on my ass. I yelp and I get a mischievous look from him. “Liked that, did you?”

    “You’ll have to discover that later,” I say primly and move around him to the stove where I light the burner under the bacon again.

Legend laughs. “Fair enough.”

He turns for the kitchen’s back staircase, but then whirls back around to face me. “Um…I was going to ask one of the guy’s wives that have kids about tomorrow, but thought I’d ask you instead.”

I tilt my head curiously. “Ask me what?”

“Even if I find a nanny today that I like, I still have to do background checks and stuff. I’ve got a home game tomorrow and need someone to watch Charlie for that time period. I usually leave for the arena about three hours before the game, so I’d need you around 4:00 p.m.”

I know he trusts me. He proved it by fucking me without a condom, but damn if it doesn’t send chills up my spine that he thinks enough of me to ask me to watch his daughter.

I smile at him. “I’d be glad to.”

“You’re awesome, Pepper,” he says with a bright grin back at me. Then he turns around and bounds up the stairs. I shamelessly listen in on the baby monitor as he talks to his daughter who coos back at him.

Legend is going to be a great father.





Chapter 9


    Legend


The mind-set of a goalie is unique. We must be physically, mentally, and emotionally sound at all times. If we get scored on, it’s imperative we shake it off and reboot our brains so to speak. That’s because the scrutiny on our play is more microscopic than the other players. When they say you win or lose as a team, well…that’s pure bullshit. A goalie can and will lose you some games. There are many times—whether it’s a shoot out or a penalty shot—when the entire game rests squarely on my shoulders.

I start my pregame preparation two and a half hours before game time. When I arrive at the arena—be it a home or away game—I change from my dress suit into some workout gear. T-shirt, shorts, running shoes.

I then grab all my sticks for the game and tape them up while shooting the shit with the other players in the locker room. Once my sticks are taped, I don’t give them to the equipment staff to take out to the bench. Instead, I walk them out there myself, not because I don’t trust the staff, but because I want to see the ice before I begin my warm-ups. I spend a few minutes just sitting on the team bench and staring at the rink while I reflect on what will be needed of me.

About an hour and a half from the puck dropping, I start my warm-up. Light jogs, a few fast sprints, and plenty of dynamic stretching. I also bounce small rubber balls against a wall to get my reflexes firing property. I do this by myself and people leave me alone, because while I’m preparing my body, I’m also deep inside myself preparing my mind.

    With forty minutes left until the game starts, I go from workout clothes to my game gear: socks, pants, skates, leg pads, shoulder pads, chest pads, elbow pads, blocker, trapper, sweater, and mask. I once read an article that said today’s goalie equipment costs roughly six thousand dollars. I don’t know for sure since the team ownership pays for that stuff, but I wonder sometimes how my parents afforded for me to play growing up.