His Secretary's Surprise Fiancé(30)

The rare compliment surprised him. The complaint really didn't. There was a chance Henri was correct.

"I'll take that under advisement." He accepted the input with a nod and tucked his clipboard under one arm to head inside.

"So where's Adelaide?" Henri asked, stopping Dempsey in his tracks.

"Running her own business. Having a life outside the Hurricanes." Without him.

The knowledge still gutted him.

"Since I'm on a real roll with advice today, can I offer a second piece?" Henri brushed some dirt off his helmet.

"Definitely not." Pivoting away from his brother, he noticed some of his players were lying on the field.

Were they that tired? Had he run them that hard?

The idea bothered him. A lot.

"Dude, I'm not claiming to be an expert on women." Henri hovered at his  shoulder, carrying the water cooler inside. "Far from it with the way  my marriage is going these days."

The dark tone in Henri's voice revealed a truth the guy had probably tried hard to keep quiet.

"Sorry to hear it." Because even though Dempsey was waist high in self-pity right now, he felt bad for his brother.

"My point is, I know enough about women to know you're going about it all wrong."

"Tell me something I don't know."

Henri laughed, a loud, abrupt cackle. "How much time do you have, old  man?" Then, tossing his helmet and the water cooler on the ground, he  pantomimed a quick right hook to Dempsey's gut. "Seriously. Don't let  Adelaide go."

And then he was gone, scooping up the helmet and shouldering the cooler  to go hassle the slackers left on the field. No doubt reinstalling the  team morale that Dempsey had single-handedly shredded.

He wasn't sure what had shocked him more. He'd never been particularly  close with Henri, sensing that the guy had resented Dempsey more than  the others as kids because Henri had been close with their mother. The  mother who'd left as soon as Dempsey had set foot in the Reynaud house.  But that was a long time ago, and maybe he needed to shake off the idea  that he was a black sheep brother. Figure out how to be a better  brother.

How to show he cared about people beyond stilted words about being good teammates.

Henri was right. It was time for Dempsey to stop expecting Adelaide to  read between the lines with him. Just because she understood him better  than anyone didn't excuse him from spelling out his feelings for her.  She deserved that and much, much more.

So damn much more.

But he was going to lay it on the line for her again, without any  distractions or big gestures. And hope like hell he got it right this  time. Because the truth of the matter was he couldn't live without her.  His championship season didn't mean anything if he couldn't share it  with her.

The woman he loved.

* * *

Adelaide dug to the bottom of her pint of strawberry gelato while  seated on her kitchen counter in the middle of the afternoon, wishing  strawberry tasted half as good as chocolate ice cream.

Except everything chocolate reminded her of Dempsey after their  chocolate-sauce encounter, and if she thought about Dempsey, she would  cry. And after three days back home alone in her crappy apartment, she  did not feel like crying anymore.

Okay, she did a little. Especially if she thought about how much effort  he'd put into romancing her on Sunday after the game. How many other  women would trade anything to be treated the way Dempsey treated her?  Yet she'd discounted all his efforts in the hope of hearing he loved  her.

Dumb. Dumb. Dumb.

Except that she'd do it all over again because she was one of those  romantic girls who believed the right guy would hand her his whole heart  forever and ever. She didn't think she could go through life if that  turned out to be a myth. Then again, she wasn't sure she could go  another day without Dempsey.

But she could probably go through a few more single-serving-size  gelatos. She'd bought every flavor that didn't contain chocolate,  determined to find some new taste to love.

Her doorbell rang as she was on her way back to the freezer.

No doubt her mother on a mission of mercy to lift her spirits. Little  did Della know that Adelaide was only going to stuff her with gelato to  avoid hearing any kind platitudes about waiting for the right one to  come along.                       
       
           



       

She yanked open the door, only to have the safety chain catch, and  remembered too late she was supposed to look through the peephole. She  didn't live in Dempsey's ultrasafe mansion anymore.

He stood on her welcome mat.

The man who hadn't left her thoughts in days wore black running shorts  and a black-and-gold Hurricanes sideline T-shirt like the ones the  players wore. He must have come straight from practice, because he made a  point not to wander around town in team gear that made him all the more  recognizable. He looked good enough to eat, reminding her why all the  gelato in the world was not going to satisfy her craving.

"May I come in?" he asked, making her realize she'd stood there gawking without saying anything.

"Of course. Just a sec." She closed the door partway to remove the chain, then opened it again, more than a little wary.

She told herself it was just as well he'd stopped by, since she had  wanted to give him that damn deed back to the manufacturing facility.  Except he looked as tired as she felt, the circles under his eyes even  darker than the ones she knew were on her face. The rest of him looked  as good as ever, however, his thighs so deliciously delineated as he  walked that she thought about all the times she'd seen them naked.  Against her own.

"How'd practice go?" Her voice was dry and she cleared it. She'd  continued to work for the team from home, not wanting to leave him in  the lurch.

He hadn't said anything about her absence at the training facility,  acknowledging her work-related emails with curt "thanks" that had been  typical of him long before now.

"Poorly. I haven't been myself this week and I've been pushing the guys  too hard. Henri called me on it today. I'm going to do better." He  wandered around her living room, touching her things, looking at her  paintings over the ancient nonfunctional fireplace.

She was surprised that he'd admitted to screwing up. No, that wasn't  true. She was more surprised that he'd screwed up in the first place. He  normally put so much effort into thinking how to best coach a team, he  didn't make the type of mistakes he had described.

"I'm glad. That you're going to be better with the team, that is."  Nervous, she wandered over to the refrigerator that was so old that  modern retro styles copied the design. "Would you like a gelato?"

She pulled out a coconut-lime flavor and cracked open the top.

"No, thank you." He set down a statue of a cat that she used to display  Mardi Gras beads. "I came here to bring you this. You left it behind  when you moved out your things."

He set a familiar ring box on the breakfast bar dividing the living  area from the kitchen. Her on one side. Him on the other. A ring in  between.

As if her heart wasn't battered enough already.

"That stone is worth a fortune." She hadn't taken the yellow diamond  either, of course. That one, she'd left on his bathroom vanity.

"And you're worth everything to me, so you can see you are well  suited." He opened the box and took out the ring. "It's not an  engagement ring. I'd already given you one of those. Adelaide, this one  is the grown-up version of that bracelet I made you. Something you've  worn every day of your life since I gave it to you."

"Friendship is forever," she reminded him, something he'd told her the day he gave it to her.

He came into the kitchen and eased her grip on the coconut-lime gelato, then set it on the linoleum countertop.

"I'm glad you remember that." He held the ring close to her bracelet. "Look and see how the patterns match."

"I see." She blinked hard, not sure what he was getting at. But she  couldn't wear that beautiful ring on her finger every day without her  heart breaking more.

"The spoon part is supposed to remind you that you're still my best  friend. Forever." He slipped his hand around hers. "The rare blue garnet  is there to tell you how rare it is to find love and friendship in the  same place. And how beautiful it is when it happens."

Her gaze flipped up to his as she tried to gauge his expression. To gauge his heart.

"That's not what you said when you gave it to me." She shook her head. "It's not fair to say things you don't mean-"

"I do, Adelaide." He took both her hands in his. Squeezed. "Please let  me try to explain. I got it all wrong before, I know. But it was not for  lack of effort."

"It was a beautiful date," she acknowledged, knowing she'd never  recover from loving him. There would never be a man in her life like  this one.