Panting his name was all I could get out of my mouth until I screamed out in pleasure and he followed, forcing my hips down hard against his.
“Fuck! Kate!” He sat up and wrapped his giant arms around me, pressing his face against my chest.
“I love you,” I said, breathless. “You never disappoint me.”
“Back at ya, baby,” he said, his breath hot on my sweaty skin.
“Not the sex, even though it was incredible.” I pushed a damp lock of hair away from my face. “It means everything to me that you do the right thing even when it’s not easy. I know Lauren’s not the only woman who wants you.”
His single note of laughter made me lean back so I could see his face. “What’s funny?”
“It’s not funny really, it’s just … being faithful to you is easy. I’ve done casual sex. It doesn’t compare to being with the woman I’m in love with.”
I smiled and kissed him softly. “Back at ya, baby.”
Chapter 9
Being strong was second nature to me. As a toddler I’d been a rink rat at the arena near my hometown of Humboldt, Iowa, learning to skate with my two brothers. I was fighting other boys for the puck before kindergarten. I’d gotten serious about weight training when I started high school, after my coach Paul Martini talked to me about greatness being something that’s earned with hard work.
Physical and mental strength were part of who I was. Early mornings, late nights, grueling training, aching muscles and the constant knowledge that someone else would kill to take my place. I had a mantra that came from Martini, who shaped me into the player I was: I might not be the fastest, or the smartest, or the biggest, but I’d never, ever be outworked. It had gotten me to the top and kept me there.
But I learned from experience that strength takes many forms. And nothing had ever impressed me more than the strength Kate had shown in the past few months. It’d been six weeks since she met me in Nashville, and not only was the wife I’d been missing back, she was better than ever. She was invigorated with the hope that we’d have a family soon. Not only had she fought through her own grief over the loss of our baby, she helped others deal with their own grief as a counselor.
I was listening to her talk to the lady from Cradle of Hope who was interviewing us for our home study, and her smile set off a flood of emotions inside me. I saw everything she was feeling in that smile: nervousness, hope and joy. It tore at me that there was no fear. She had complete faith that the body of a total stranger would be able to bring us the gift that hers couldn’t.
“I didn’t really think much of not having a dad around growing up,” Kate said. “I mean, I can remember the time when he was there, and that was normal. But then when he left and it was just me and Mom, that seemed normal, too.”
“Sure,” said Lisa, who was interviewing us. “I can understand that. Do you have any vision or expectations in your mind of what a father should be?”
Kate sighed and considered. “I know that Ryke will be everything I would’ve liked in a dad.” She met my eyes and squeezed my hand. “He’s so smart about so many things. He can fix anything on any car and he can build things. He made me a cutting board and it’s so beautiful. His dad taught him woodworking and he does things like that in the off season when we visit his parents. He’s patient and loving and he cares about people. I’ve seen him with his nieces and nephews and they love him because he jokes and plays with them. He works hard at everything he does. And one of the things I love most about him is that he’s respectful to everyone. When we’re out and fans approach him, he always takes time for them. If they’re knowledgeable about the game, he talks in depth with them. And if they’re not, he talks on that level, too. Every time I see him talking to people, they leave feeling good about themselves. It would be easy for a professional athlete to be conceited, but he’s not.”
I was moved listening to her. Nothing she was saying had anything to do with fame or money. She saw inside me. I was surprised when she took a breath and picked right up talking again.
“He was doing a thing for a Cub Scout troop once. Ice skating with them. And I went to watch because we were going out to dinner after. There was a boy who was off to the side, clinging to the wall because he was too afraid to even move on the skates. And Ryke … he asked someone to bring out a round plastic sled, and he had him sit on it and he pulled him around the rink. I still remember that kid’s smile. And then all the kids wanted to ride the sled, and that boy wasn’t alone anymore. That …” She wiped at the corner of her eye. “That got me. I’m proud of everything about him. I think our children will feel the same way.”